


Aberrations

by AmalgamOfFaces



Series: Rise of the Phoenix (Main) [3]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hybrids, Lots more mixtures this go around, M/M, More tags and characters to be added, Multi, Paranoia, Past Abuse, Rating May Change, Superpowers, There are relationships in it but not everything revolves around them, This is not a romance, Warnings May Change, deaged Tadashi, dragon hiro, just FYI, mutations, phoenix tadashi, sort of, the unholy offspring of fantasy and scifi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9161230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalgamOfFaces/pseuds/AmalgamOfFaces
Summary: Three years after the events of Rise of the Phoenix and Bridging the Gap, the Hamada brothers are beginning to realize they are not alone in their 'gifts'. With this knowledge comes the danger of those who might wish to exploit them... or worse.Unsure of the motives of others, Hiro has to find someone he can trust, or things could go quite badly for him and his newly returned brother.(Third part of a series, skipping the previous books will lead to confusion. Previous chapters of the first book are also being edited. Currently, up to chapter 8 have been updated, and rereading may be beneficial to some.)





	1. Prologue: Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short preview at present, working more as an announcement that this series is being picked up again after being planned and plotted out properly. Reviews are treasured and fuel motivation.

               _Intruder_.

 

               Everything was constant here.

               There were no surprises, no changes to the in-and-out wanderings of the same ones with their familiar scents and voices.

               They only came when the lights were on.

 

               **_Intruder._**

 

               They came, they tested. _(“We’re going to do another test today-”)_

It ate, they left. _(“Disgusting. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but-“)_

              

               They never lingered like this. They never looked for long…

               Intruder flinched when it growled, but stayed.

               _Was Intruder another ‘it’? …Must be. Intruder smelled wrong._

 

               Intruder, it, another they (?), moved closer, so quietly, much quieter than they were. It could hear Intruder, of course, but the near silence was unnerving.

               Something in its head screamed _danger_ , and it listened. It had never been wrong before.

 

               Intruder ignored the second warning growl to _back off_ , placing a black-covered hand on one of the bars.

 

               _Like Brother._

_Brother’s gone._

              

               It snarled, lunging forward. Intruder should have stayed away.

               Its clawed hand met empty air as Intruder darted back faster than it could strike. Intruder now breathed quicker, heart pounding loudly to its ears, yet hadn’t screamed.

               It was sure now that Intruder had to be another ‘it’. They didn’t move that quickly, and they bled for it. It hadn’t even nicked Intruder, the smell of blood absent despite the red it could see when the furthest light flicked on.

              

               Intruder’s attention turned to the slowly approaching lights and began to murmur lowly to one that wasn’t there, just like them.

               “Ghost, I found someth- someone.”

               And then, even quieter, so that it could barely hear the words, the oddly spoken response came.

               “This ain’t a rescue, and you’re outta time as is. Just stick to the original plan.”

 

               By the time the halfway light flickered on, Intruder shifted, _changing_ , as it began to leave. ‘It’ snarled again at the retreating figure, disturbed by the sudden change in scent, and Intruder paused. The stillness was interrupted when the next light audibly clicked on.  

 

               It looked toward the doorway that they always came through, the light from the small window the only indicator of their impending arrival. They’d deal with Intruder. They always dealt with things they didn’t like.

               The door rattled open and a few of them filed in, just like always. Things were going to be constant again, they’d be sure.

               But there was no response to Intruder, and it whirled around again, agitated.

 

               “What’s got you in such a fuss?” One of them asked, looking through their bag.

               It couldn’t answer their questions, as Intruder was gone as quietly as it had come.


	2. Feathers

Tuesday, January 21st 2042

* * *

 

               “I heard the Beast was jumpy today.” Eliza absentmindedly brushed a few stray feathers towards a corner with her foot, none of them lovely enough on their own to keep.

               “Mhmm.” The girl nodded, trying not to twitch too much at the hand carding through her wings. “They sent a warning… I wish Nathaniel was still here so he could deal with it. What if it got loose?”

               “They wouldn’t let anything happen to _you_ , Mitsuko,” Eliza reminded her. “Besides, you don’t have to stay here much longer. Ms. Amachi just doesn’t want you too far away.”

               Mitsuko stared at the floor, swinging her feet so they tapped a steady rhythm against the drawers of the examination bench. Mulling over the question bouncing around in her head, trying to decide if it would be okay to ask, Mitsuko sat in silence for a moment. Eliza had never gotten mad at her before. Ms. Amachi, yes, but never Eliza. “Why don’t they just get rid of it?”

               Eliza paused. “Well. They’re not done with it yet I suppose.”

               She didn’t mention how difficult Nathaniel might become if they did and he heard about it. Kouri- Ms. Amachi- Dr. Amachi, however she was supposed to refer to her, knew best how to keep the delicate balance at the facilities. Antagonizing one of the ‘successes’ would hurt more than it would help in this case. Creating working ‘combinations’ was one thing, keeping them in line was entirely another. Eliza knew Ms. Amachi had a lot to teach her, especially in that regard.

               It wasn’t enough of an answer for Mitsuko. “But they can’t _use_ it. I heard just last week it bit someone—”

               “And _you_ set fire to the seat in the van. Ah, hold still.” Eliza found the base of a particularly twisted feather and pulled it free with a sharp yank, moving out of the way of the reflexive extending of the wings by habit. “Anyway, shi- stuff happens. It ain’t a death sentence.” Usually.

               Mitsuko remained silent, recalling the incident. Surprisingly, Ms. Amachi had seemed pleased… _after_ the flames had been extinguished. The silence stretched for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

               “If you were outside, you’d be old enough to drive now, did you know?” Eliza continued looking for bent feathers, the practice as relaxing as braiding hair, in her opinion. It was a shame Mitsuko didn’t keep it long enough to do so. “Not that you’d need to with these,” she gently shook one of the wings, “but it might be fun to teach you.”

               “I don’t think-“ Mitsuko cut herself off at the unmistakable sound of business shoes against the hard floor of the hallway.

               Eliza ‘tsk’ed, resentful of the interruption. It was hard enough getting Mitsuko out of her shell without nobodys poking in at every opportunity. Even so, she schooled her face into something non-hostile as one of the newer assistants, what was his name, knocked and announced that Dr. Amachi was waiting for them. Like she couldn’t have sent a notification electronically. He’d probably been told to relay the message because he wasn’t useful otherwise.

               He was waved away in annoyance by Eliza, but it wasn’t until the door was shut and the man gone that Mitsuko looked up from the floor again.

               “C’mon, hop down,” Eliza directed. Maintenance on the wings was a constant battle anyway, and Ms. Amachi (as Eliza called her in her head to keep the two doctors separate) wouldn’t have called for them unless it were important.

               Keeping pace with Mitsuko, Eliza navigated the halls as easily as if it were her second home. It may as well have been, or more accurately her third or fourth. The facilities blurred together in her mind, all structured so similarly that one could enter another that they’d never visited before and find their way just fine.

               Door after electronically locked door passed by, and Eliza checked every third one that Mitsuko was still beside her. She’d gone silent, wings tucked close. The rare moments of her free conversation had passed.

               Sighing quietly, aware she couldn’t change that now, Eliza set her eyes forward. Things _had_ to be stricter after Nereus had found his way out. But even three years later, Eliza felt it stifling, and _she_ wasn’t the one being monitored. Not really, anyway, as long as she kept her checkups.

               The Drs. Amachi knew best, however, and it wasn’t like Mitsuko had other parents to keep an eye on her. It’s just the way things were. Nathaniel had turned out fine, hadn’t he? Eliza could almost convince herself, and her train of thought ended when they reached the office.

               Eliza lingered outside the door, listening in when she heard voices. After all, if they _really_ didn’t want to be overheard, they wouldn’t have called them and then continued their conversation. They might simply… speak a bit freer if they didn’t know.

               “— _unnecessary,_ perhaps you should reconsider-“

               “No.” Eliza recognized Ms. Amachi’s voice immediately. “We’ve wasted enough time, and your promises continue to fall through. We have the legal backing now, and I _won’t_ have him falling into the wrong hands. If he hasn’t already…”

               Though she tried to remain silent, Eliza cursed every allergen known to man as a sneeze began to build up and refused to be stifled. Rather than risk them getting suspicious, Eliza entered the room abruptly, interrupting their conversation, but maintaining plausible doubt that she hadn’t heard anything. Not that it had been incredibly useful, but at least she could get away with it. She knew Mitsuko wouldn’t think to rat her out.

               Eliza grinned widely, ushering Mitsuko into the room after her. “Came quick as we could, what’d you need?”

               “Ah, Elizabeth.” Kouri waved away the person she’d been speaking to, ignoring the dark look he gave her. As long as he did as she asked when it mattered, his emotions were his own. “Good, I was wondering if Matthew had gotten himself lost. Sit down.”

               The contradictory “It’s Eliza-“ danced on the tip of her tongue before she decided it’d be a waste of breath. It was a 3 year losing battle, as Ms. Amachi strictly believed that names were significant, and to so ‘butcher’ one was an insult to the name-giver.

               Eliza expressed her discontent instead by flopping into the seat, rather than displaying any form of elegance. It was petty, but it would get under Ms. Amachi’s skin, and at the moment that was all that mattered. She refused to feel ashamed at the condescending look Ms. Amachi gave her ‘childish actions.’

               “So…” Eliza lead, “what is it?”

               Kouri allowed a moment of silence to linger, but had long since given up on teaching Elizabeth patience any time soon. “We’re putting out an official search for Nereus. You would have found out soon enough, but your continued discretion _is_ required. This is forcing us more into the public eye, and any misstep on your part could be disastrous.”

               Eliza pouted. Was that all? She knew better than to openly flaunt any knowledge or abilities she had, especially considering who her dad was. Speaking of which… “You pass this by my dad?”

               “Of course.” Kouri frowned. “He even advised we hide some of the intent by changing how we go about it. Which is why you need to be _especially_ cautious—“

               “Or what, you lose his funding?” Eliza interrupted, already tired of the conversation. They’d just do as they pleased, like always, and she just needed to keep her mouth shut, like _always._

               “At best,” came Kouri’s icy reply.

               Saluting half-heartedly, aware she was pushing her luck, Eliza nodded. “Roger that.”

               Sighing at Eliza’s irreverence, Kouri fixed her gaze on Mitsuko, who had remained standing, hands clasped behind her and head down. At least one of them knew how to behave. “Mitsuko, we will be leaving shortly. Don’t wander off.”

               She made her way to the door, glancing back at where Elizabeth was still lounging. “I’d prefer if you didn’t stay in my office while I’m out, Elizabeth, so if you would…” Kouri gestured to the door, leaving her intent on no uncertain terms.

               Only once Elizabeth had made her way down the hall did Kouri close and lock the door behind her. Sometimes she wondered if the other woman was more trouble than she was worth, ‘perfect’ hybrid or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smidge short, but I felt the bits that were at the end better belonged in future chapters. The chapter I'm posting tomorrow flows better with them AFTER the fact, too, so that will be fun. Reviews are appreciated, see you tomorrow.


	3. Normalcy (And Clinging To It)

Wednesday January 22nd, 2042

* * *

 

               The café bustled with activity and people, many of them rushing in to avoid the cold and to grab a hot chocolate. Navigating through the crowd, Hiro was once again grateful that he was just the sometimes-help again, and not the one running the show. Days like today would be hell, there were just _too_ many people in such a small space. Three years wasn’t enough time to prevent the stress from nagging at his brain from so many customers, even if it wasn’t his problem anymore.

               Café work just wasn’t for him, not in the long-term. If his Aunt hadn’t recovered when she had, Hiro had doubts he would have kept the doors open for much longer. It was a great load off of his shoulders to have his Aunt Cass back in business. On top of removing the stress over her condition, it also allowed him time to work on his other projects… and keep an eye on his brother. There was an increased need for it today with all the people crammed into the room. Thankfully, hopefully, he had a bit of help this time around.

               Currently Hiro busied himself with trying to get their two-and-a-half-year-old dog to _sit. still_ so he could clip the leash on his collar. The Akita enjoyed rolling around far too much, but his barks were loud, and he was loyal, which was all Hiro could really ask for. The breed was also known for being particularly vicious towards intruders, which meant they’d had to be extra careful about training him while owning a café. Not that you’d guess it looking at him now.

               “Takeo, hold still,” Hiro chided, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yes, you’re adorable, and _so_ excited to go outside, but you _can’t_ if you don’t- ah, got it!”

               Tadashi took the leash from Hiro now that it was properly attached, winding it around his wrist. The instant Hiro released Takeo’s collar, the dog bounded between and around some of the chairs, getting it hopelessly tangled as he tried to investigate the strange people. Sighing far too solemnly for his perceived age, Tadashi went to work undoing the mess.

               There was stifled laughter from the front door, announcing the arrival of Angela and Mari. They were a few minutes early to their agreed upon arrival time, but it wasn’t like the ‘youngest’ brother had had anything better to do until then. This was, after all, _his_ ‘playdate’.

               “Having trouble there?” Angela approached, pulling a chair up to allow the leash to come free.

               Hiro shook his head, leaving the task to his brother. “No more than usual.”

               Mari excitedly helped the ‘good dog’ free himself from the various table legs, only allowing Buttercup (as the dog had officially become, despite attempts to the contrary) just enough room to sniff Takeo in greeting. Only once both dogs were under control did Hiro get ready to give his typical speech, a phenomenon both sisters had grown accustomed to, and found more amusing than anything.

               “Okay, so,” Hiro began, “if anything happens I’m to be notified _immediately_ , even if you think you can handle it, and both Takeo and Tadashi need to be in sight at all times. **No** wandering off.”

               The statement was targeted at Tadashi, who’d only just started paying attention. It earned Hiro an unimpressed look, but he refused to be dissuaded.

               “Also, no unplanned stops _anywhere_ unless I’m notified-“

               “-and be back by three, **and** if he loses his phone for any reason that he should find a landline and call home. I know the drill, Hiro,” Angela finished for him, only half teasing. “I’m not _that_ slow.”

               Hiro sighed, nodding and chewing his lower lip in uncertain thought. “You know, maybe I can just come with you, I’m sure the client wouldn’t mind rescheduling.”

               “Hiro.” Angela fixed him with a look. “He’ll be fine. Just like last time, just like the time before that.”

               Gritting his teeth, Hiro forced himself to nod in agreement. Worst come to worst, Tadashi had the necklace, and his abilities… if he could be convinced to _use_ them. Besides, it wasn’t good business or good morals to postpone a meeting where prosthetics were involved. Even if he _could_ come up with a very probable excuse by now. He’d gotten plenty of practice.

               “Right. Fine. Get going.” Hiro watched them leave before heading back to the garage to grab his stuff to head to the meeting.

               After making sure everything was secured, he pulled out his phone, checking the tracker. He could never be too cautious, and even this was a stretch of his will. Oh well, best to have someone around that at least tries to live up to the expectations of trust, and three years without issues _probably_ meant that she wasn’t planning anything herself. Now he just had to make sure to defend against anything from the outside.

* * *

 

               The meeting went well, as it always did this far in the process. It was just a matter of ironing out the details and making sure it was exactly to the specifications of the person ordering it. It wasn’t an hour later when Hiro arrived back at the café, tucking away blueprints and notes for future use.

               Checking the tracker again, Hiro noted that Tadashi was safely (hopefully) in the main of the building. It didn’t take but five minutes to poke his head in to make sure, and there he was. Sitting in the still over-sized beanbag was his brother, making sure to carefully lose at video games.

               A triumphant Mari, the nine-year-old, or was she ten, who had decided Tadashi was her absolute best friend in the world, whooped in celebration at another victory. Hiro had once overheard her proclaiming he was her best friend even though he was ‘awful’ at video games, which she was always very nice about. Oh, if only she knew.

               The safer part of his brother’s ‘playdate’ underway, Hiro allowed himself to become immersed in his secondary project. It strongly reminded him of his early days as part of the “Big Hero 6” team, when he poured himself into one mystery after the other, determined to be useful. It was typically only small-fry he had ever managed to unearth, but this time he felt he was on the trail of something, or someone, more sinister. He knew he had to be much more careful this time around.

               A string of reports that seemed to go unnoticed by newscasters, or at least hardly mentioned if they were at all acknowledged, had caught his attention. At first, he had assumed he was seeing something in nothing, desperate to find a way to distract himself from his fears. However, the more he looked into it, the more it stood out to him that there was a pattern developing.

               People would be admitted to the hospital with odd symptoms, such that the doctors were unable to diagnose exactly what was causing them. The ‘oddities’ would vary, from constant headaches to fading vision to an itch they couldn’t manage to scratch, but without fail, all of them would describe or develop the sensation of “fire in their veins”. There didn’t seem to be any connection between the victims other than that, besides all of them dying or ending up comatose. (The latter case was a singular person, who was then shipped off to a more expensive, intensive, and, most obstructively to Hiro’s investigations, private care center. His current fate remained unpublished.)

               Hiro shook his head, not even _that_ could be constant, could it? The hospitals they were admitted to, their workplaces, their hobbies, ages, previous health issues, the entire lot (which Hiro wasn’t _technically_ supposed to have access to, but who would care about defending a dead person’s privacy) ranged across the board. The only factors Hiro could tie together were that none were elderly or children. Whatever it was, it worked the opposite of what one would expect. A disease usually hit the weakest the hardest, unless it was carried to the initial, more social people first and then later spread. But the victims didn’t even live close to each other, besides being in and from the Bay Area.

               That was another odd thing. Hiro searched and searched but couldn’t find another potential example of cases like this anywhere. Anything that could explain similar symptoms or results left marks, which he doctors wouldn’t have missed on _this_ many patients. Hiro had sent out a request to the physicians at the hospitals his ‘Beta’-maxs (what he finally decided to refer to them mentally as) worked at, hoping to get some more information. He had asked that they at least allow such patients to be scanned before succumbing eventually to the seemingly unpreventable cold hand of death. Of course, he didn’t _word_ it like that, but it was the general idea.

               And now he had to wait. Wait and dig into more and more of these people’s identities to try and find _some_ connection. He told himself it was to help, to put a stop to this entire thing before it spread like a plague. However, he couldn’t deny the thrill of a puzzle. It was addicting, feeling the pull on his brain, to actually exert mental energy on something difficult. It had been a while since the ‘brain-buzz’ had been a thing.

               Sighing after going through a particular victim’s social media, which had quite the collection of frankly bigoted posts, Hiro leaned back in his chair, giving himself time to process out the stupid. It was amazing what people with money could convince themselves of, in particular. He frowned, remembering that he himself had a fair amount of money, but it never really felt like he did. That was for emergencies. Or the future. Or something. In any case, it wasn’t to spend unless he needed more supplies or something similar.

               He chastised himself again when he checked his buzzing phone to see Fred had texted him about something or another. Fred was the furthest from bigoted or snooty, and he had a flipping _mansion_. Hiro scrolled through Fred’s excited rambling about the weekend he’d spent with his dad, the giant snakeskin they’d found, and all the cool ideas he’d gotten from talking with a father that was clearly as creative as his son. You could always count on Fred to bring the spark into the group.

               It was sorely needed, as Hiro couldn’t escape the feeling that they were slowly drifting apart. Sure, they were all adults now with their own lives, and college was something to look back on, but it made maintaining relationships that much harder. Of course they were still close, of course, but… Hiro sighed, shutting his laptop a bit harder than necessary. He was overthinking things.

               Just because he had yet another thing he couldn’t relate to anybody else about didn’t mean it was the end of the world. With the kid genius thing, he’d just had to find friends that were older and not jerks. Now he just needed to focus more on maintaining those past friendships, the whole mutant/hybrid/ _whatever_ thing didn’t matter. Right. At least he didn’t have it as bad as Tadashi.

               Letting his feet carry him, Hiro wandered to the living room, watching the two finish another round of gaming. Tadashi was kind of stuck, unable to fit in fully with either group, but he’d found a way to adapt. Tadashi had compared it to working at a daycare, and admitted it _was_ nice to just be able to play again, despite the other drawbacks of ‘resetting’ as a child.

               Hiro paced aimlessly for the remainder of their visit, trying to keep himself semi-occupied. He couldn’t sit still long enough to have a decent conversation with Angela, only offering token comments when she and his Aunt were talking. When it was time for them to go, it couldn’t have been too soon in his opinion.

               Hiro’d thought it would just be another standard evening if not for the solemn look that Tadashi wore for the entirety of dinner. Preparing for the worst (or a thousand worst possible situations) Hiro followed him back to their shared room, waiting for the hammer to fall.

               “Hiro…” Tadashi’s words were measured, and this sounded more like he was getting ready to ask for something, rather than delivering bad news. It could still prove to be just as much of a problem, however, and Hiro did his best not to feel relieved.

               “About this whole… what do we even _call_ this? We _never_ talk about this, and I know you don’t _want_ to and you’d rather pretend we were normal, but we’re _not_ , you _know_ we’re not.” Tadashi shook his head, trying to stick to his point. “But… there’s no way it’s, that is, that we…” He sighed in frustration. “We can’t be the only ones, Hiro. Stuff like this doesn’t just _drop_ in out of nowhere and then _disappear_.”

               Hiro frowned, knowing exactly where this was going but determined that’d he’d already thought too much on this. “No, you heard Aunt Cass… you did hear, right? This was mom and dad’s project? And in case you _forgot_ -“ Hiro opened his arms wide, indicating towards the room, but meaning the house in general. “Not here. There’s no reason there _should_ be more. And _yes_ , I did look into the people she’d mentioned, and guess what? Dead. No chance for them to try again, and no successful results up to that point. Am I forgetting anything?”

               “No, but.” Tadashi huffed, trying to make his brother at least _consider_ the possibility. “What if they’d… I dunno, showed someone. Or their supervisor, or… I _don’t know,_ but you can’t just ignore it…”

               He wasn’t. He absolutely wasn’t, it just didn’t _fit_ so there was no reason to consider it. Whatever he’d seen… whatever he’d _thought_ he’d seen, had to have been something different. He refused to think there were any other living successes. Surely, they would have come to light by now, if for no other reason than for a scientist somewhere to win an award. It probably wasn’t even profitable, considering all that he imagined had to go into it.

               “I’m not ignoring it,” Hiro finally said after an extended silence. “I just… no. It’s not- there aren’t any others, I’m sorry, it sucks to be,” Hiro indicated to the child’s body, “But even if there _were_ , we’d probably never find out. It’s not like there’s a support group online or something.”

               His joke fell flat, his brother looking at him in disappointment. But at least Hiro had thought better than to share his suspicions about Kyouji. They didn’t need to know anything more about him than that he wasn’t even who he’d said he was, and that if they ever met again, he wouldn’t get away so easily. Tadashi surely would have looked further into it, and that was trouble they didn’t need.

               Hiro clenched and unclenched his fist before sighing, careful not to breathe too deeply. “I’m sorry. I really am, Tadashi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! The story is finally beginning to pick up, and I'm excited to see where it takes us.


	4. Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the dates at the top of the chapters. This will be very helpful with figuring out what happens when.

Tuesday December 17th, 2041

* * *

 

               Brightly lit, the open arena drew few spectators this time of day, even as two people went head to head, fighting with a speed that made it difficult to follow. They’d been going for a while now, but it was dead silent besides the sounds of the struggle, no one dared speak and distract them. Blow was exchanged for blow, neither getting the upper hand, despite the fact that one was _clearly_ better than the other. She was known for toying with her opponents…

               “Come on, you can do better~” Bella taunted, dancing back on her rollerblades with a fluidity that wouldn’t be possible if not for years of training and (luckily for her) the smooth floor.

               Her opponent lashed out, struggling to keep a clear head because she was _right_ , he _could_ do better, and this was pathetic. It wasn’t long after that before he misstepped and she took his leg from beneath him, the edge of a knife at his throat. That in and of itself was less of a threat than most people would think. She may as well have been fighting with a wooden rod for all that it would be able to do. However, a loss was a loss, he couldn’t depend on how things would _actually_ play out for him.

               “I’d say that’s game, isn’t it?” Bella stood, flipping the knife into its holster, not bothering to help him up. “What’s the matter with you? You’re no _fun_ anymore…”

               Jadoku remained where he was, sitting up slowly, lest she decide there was a bonus round of the fight. “I’m tired, lay off.”

               “Oh? Been a bit _busy?_ ” Bella’s grin grew as she turned to look at the by-standers. “Okayy, okay, I’m done I promise, you can come over now.”

               “Even _if_ you attack, I ain’t fighting, just so ya know.” Himitsu approached the two of them, pausing for a moment before plopping down next to Jadoku rather than pulling him up. He didn’t look like he’d be steady on his feet, no need to tempt Bella into pushing him over.

               “Are you ‘tired’ too?” Bella sighed, drifting lazily on her skates. “Or just scared I’ll kick _your_ ass?”

               “Healthy bit of both,” Himitsu conceded lightly, glancing back over to the sidelines. “Medea, you just gonna stand there?”

               “Because you’re doing so much where you are.” Despite that, Medea did slowly approach with measured steps.

               Frowning a bit, Himitsu pointed out, “Yer the one that wanted to watch.”

               Medea scowled, keeping a bit of a distance. “If I’d wanted to watch Bella grind some loser into the dust, I could have just gone with the Fujitas next week. I thought he was special or something.”

               “Damn, tell us how ya really feel,” Himitsu shook his head, resting an arm on Jadoku’s shoulder. “And he _is,_ he just can’t use any of that in sparring, seein’ as we’d like to keep Bella.”

               “Supposedly,” Jadoku muttered. The room was still spinning, and he clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm in an attempt to ground himself.

               “By all means, don’t hold back,” Bella opened her arms, a challenging grin on her face. “I could still take you.”

               Before Jadoku could respond, Himitsu answered coldly. “ _Taishou_ doesn’t want to risk it. Take it up with him.”

               An awkward silence fell over the group, held up by strings that Bella finally snipped with a derisive huff.

               “And since when did _you_ follow the letter of the law?”

               “Since when were _you_ such a—“ Himitsu was cut off when Jadoku stood abruptly, moving towards the exit. “Jay?”

               Himitsu received no answer and hurried to follow him out.

               “ _And_ there he goes,” Bella waved at them as they disappeared from sight before turning to Medea. “Sorry you had to see ‘em like this, Red usually puts up more of a fight, or at least is happy to argue with you.”

               “ _They’re_ the right and left hands?” Medea watched them go in confusion and a disappointment she poorly masked. “I mean, I know Himitsu’s just always been like that, but I’d thought…” Her voice trailed off, frown still etched into her face. The disconnect between stories she’d heard and what she’d just seen was jarring.

               Bella hummed in agreement. “Red’s been kinda… off lately, I thought maybe an audience’d make him want to try.” She shrugged, brushing it off. No reason to dwell. “ _Oh, well_ guess not _._ C’mon, let’s get out of here. The echo gives me the creeps.”

               Following readily, Medea fought to put the thought to rest. If Bella wasn’t worried, there wasn’t a reason to be. Once they reached it, the corridor branched out into various hallways, but the awareness of where she was had Medea comparing it to tunnels. Or maybe the inside of a very large ant hill. That’d be something.

               “Sorry your welcome here was so dull,” Bella suddenly spoke up. “Shoki was planning on being here for you too, but… you know.” She thought for a minute before offering, “We could race down the main hall if you want? Fifty points for each person you knock over? Get five hundred points and I’ll find a way to get pizza out here.”

               Medea smiled over at the other woman. That sounded promising, even if it wouldn’t be as adrenalin inducing as the streets of San Fransokyo. For the time that they were stuck here, however, it wasn’t a bad second option. “I don’t even know where the main hall _is_ , Bella.”

               A manic grin overtook her face, the signs of genuine excitement finally shining through again.

               “Let’s fix that.”

* * *

 

               “Jay, c’mon, she was just runnin’ her mouth—“ Himitsu struggled to keep pace with him, Jadoku’s walking clip just a bit above what he could manage without jogging.

               Sparing him a glance, Jadoku turned abruptly off of the corridor, into the public bathroom, where he visibly tried to steady his breathing. All the blood had drained from his face, and it was only looking straight at him now that Himitsu realized it wasn’t anger that had made him storm off. Forgoing any attempts at conversation, Jadoku went to the sink, splashing cool water on his face, hoping it would help.

               “You okay?” Himitsu’s confusion grew. Jadoku hadn’t ever been physically sick besides that brief, nasty stint with mono that had knocked him on his back for a couple weeks. So, it had to be something besides the physical, and he hadn’t noticed anything obvious that would have set him off.

               “I didn’t wanna puke in there.” Jadoku shakily steadied himself against the sink, biting his cheek as he tried to keep his breathing at an even pace. Being in a place he was ‘allowed’ to get sick in diminished the anxiousness that he would do so, which in turn reduced the nausea. It didn’t, however, prevent everything from listing ever so slightly to the left if he looked at it for too long, so he clenched his eyes shut in an attempt to escape it.

               Slowly approaching so as not to startle him, Himitsu laid a hand on his back, rubbing small circles. He waited until the pale, stricken look on Jadoku’s face faded before speaking again.

               “Ya need to go back to yer room?” Himitsu offered. “I can tell Taishou ya weren’t up for meetin’ today—“

               “No.” Jadoku cut him off sharply. “No, it’s fine. Just dizzy.”

               Himitsu frowned, pressing closer. “You hit yer head?” The ‘again’ went unsaid, but lingered in the air.

               “No, I know how to fall.” Jadoku reached for where he knew the paper towels to be, drying off the remaining drops on his face and neck before hesitantly opening his eyes again. Everything had a slight sheen to it, but it’d stopped moving, so he supposed he could call it improvement. “Yeah, there. I’m fine now.”

               Pulling away from Himitsu, he shoved the paper into the trash can, not risking throwing it and missing. Himitsu would have definitely called him out on it then. He’d find somewhere to sit until the meeting time and by then everything should be back to normal.

* * *

 

               It wasn’t.

               Jadoku could barely force himself to focus through the haze he attributed to exhaustion, and the fact that Himitsu was now keeping a closer eye on him made it all the more difficult. Because of course Taishou then picked up on _his_ concern, and could draw conclusions of his own. Jadoku wasn’t fooling anybody, he knew, but he _had_ to at least show he was going to try and be present.

               There was something about new requests and potential targets, but Jadoku wasn’t able to absorb any of it. He could, hopefully, ask Himitsu later, or if it were really important it’d be repeated at some point. Medea was reintroduced, but Jadoku avoided looking directly at her, remembering her scorn from earlier. There was speaking freely and then there was… that. And as his mood rapidly tanked, he could do without the reminder.

               He almost believed he’d gotten away with it, until he went to stand along with everyone else at the end of the meeting. Taishou’s heavy hand on his shoulder let him know quite plainly that he wasn’t going anywhere soon, so he sat quietly, flickers of irritation continuing to build in him while the others filed out. Himitsu looked back at them, hesitating only momentarily when Taishou shook his head before leaving as well.

               The silence was allowed to linger, but at least nothing about Taishou _seemed_ angry. With fewer people in the room, the haze didn’t shine as brightly, and the quiet surrounding him made it easier for Jadoku to relax, the sharp edges of everyone’s presence finally dulled. There wasn’t a threat right now, and Jadoku knew Taishou would address things _eventually_. It was one of the rare times he didn’t find himself annoyed with the practice in patience, and he tried to consciously cling to that. He’d rather not be chastised too much more today.

               Jadoku didn’t know for sure how much time had passed before the silence was finally broken, but it was adequate time to temper the frustration that had been taking root.

               “Any particular reason you weren’t fully here today?” Taishou asked his question evenly, and Jadoku knew that everything about his response, or lack of one, would be picked apart unless he was straightforward about it. He also knew, from trial and extreme error, that ‘it’s fine’ or ‘it’s nothing’ or any rehash of those were not acceptable answers. If Taishou asked a question, you answered it, or you would only make things worse for yourself.

               After discarding those knee-jerk responses, Jadoku tried to piece together an answer that hopefully wouldn’t land him in hot water.

               “I can’t focus. Everything’s…” But he didn’t have a word to describe it. ‘Blurry’ was wrong, even though it gave a similar sensation, and ‘dimmed’ was wrong but so was ‘brightened’. “Off?”

               “And how long have you kept this to yourself?”

               Jadoku’s first reaction was to object, but he managed to keep a lid on that besides the indignation that he knew Taishou would’ve seen flicker across his face. “It never got this bad… and it would go away quickly, so it wasn’t—like the headrush you get sometimes when you stand up?”

               When Taishou didn’t respond, Jadoku realized he hadn’t answered the question at all and scrambled to continue. “A couple months? Or before that, but that’s when I started to notice.”

                 “So you brought it up at your check-ins, then?”

               Jadoku gritted his teeth. Taishou had to know he hadn’t, why couldn’t they leave it at that? “…no.”

               “You’ll remedy that before tomorrow, understood?” Taishou stood, done with the conversation. “I brought him on for a _reason_ , Jadoku, don’t ignore him for your pride.”

               A thousand defenses leapt to the tip of his tongue, but Jadoku knew the conversation was over and swallowed them down. It didn’t matter if he thought the doctor was creepy and invasive and that he hated every second he had to spend in the room with his over-curious self. It didn’t matter that he didn’t really _need_ one, that he _could_ manage himself. It didn’t _matter_ that it wasn’t a matter of _pride_ , it was a matter of _fact_. Taishou had decided that he was required to see a physician, and so he had to.

               Not that it would amount to anything, Jadoku thought as he wandered through the halls, delaying as much as he could. It wasn’t like Dayu knew what he was doing. Nobody did when it came to Jadoku. And just because he was forced to see him didn’t mean he had to respect him. Given the chance, Dayu would happily keep him as a lab rat, a thought that retied Jadoku’s stomach into knots.

               No. He’d report… whatever this was, and leave. Taishou’s demand would be fulfilled, it’d be relatively painless, and he could just wait for it to pass again. He probably just needed to drink more water or something equally stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SomebodyAwesomeSauce for the review! I'm always open to comments/critiques/pterodactyl screeches. Feedback keeps me going! If you haven't already noticed, the typical posting schedule has been shifted to Saturday, except in the cases where life decides it needs more attention. I'm finally getting the ball rolling past the finicky introductory chapters, so that will be fun.


	5. Announcement

Thursday, January 23rd, 2042

11 PM

* * *

 

               “Okay, we’re on in five, four—“ The cameraman finished the countdown on his fingers, prompting the newswoman to begin speaking.

               “Breaking news: a local facility has reported the escape of dangerous persons. Previously detained for ‘psychological guidance’ and their ‘unique circumstances,’ these beings are not reportedly an immediate dire threat. However, their very existences pose dangers unlike any that have been announced here, and I would feel safe in saying such things have yet to be reported _anywhere_. Pay close attention to the following announcement.”

* * *

 

               “ _We bring to you a warning: three of our patients have escaped and may be hiding amongst you. They are ill-equipped to survive outside of what they know, and may unintentionally lash out should you approach them.”_

_“Do **not** try to engage. Contact the number on the screen if you see or hear of anything. People specialized in bringing them in will handle it, do **not** risk approaching them.” _

Three boxes appeared on the screen, one with a picture, the other two with no more than text.

               The first box enlarged to fill the screen. The picture was a blurry still that had been taken through water, near-white and black forming together. The description beside the photo was far more useful than the photo itself.

                              Unique Features: White Hair; Black Fins; Pale Eyes

                              Temperament: Skittish; Non-hostile

                              Danger Levels: Low

               “ _This one is the least immediately dangerous, but we ask that you exhibit caution. It may respond to the name Nereus, and may be found in or around large bodies of water. Where possible, block its access to the open ocean while our retrievers are on their way. It can walk outside of water, do not become alarmed, but do not interact.”_

               The box retreated, bringing up the second.

                              Unique Features: Blood Red Hair; Green Scales

                              Temperament: Aggressive; Hostile

                              Danger Levels: High

               “ _Unnamed, and extremely deadly, do not risk contact. It has shown hostility in the past and will kill if approached. Do **not** approach. Do **not** interact. Find somewhere safe before contacting our retrievers.” _

               That box retreated, and the final one was brought to the forefront.

                              Unique Features: Flaming Wings/Body; A Child

                              Temperament: Unknown

                              Danger Levels: Presumed High

               “ _It is very young, which may make it volatile. Its age may make you pity it, but do not approach. Its fire has the ability to make life unsustainable near it. Contact the retrievers if you have suspicions or confirmation of this, or any of these beings.”_

               “ _Further information may be requested at XXX-XXXX. The retriever’s number is YYY-YYYY.”_

* * *

 

               “We will play the clip again at the end of our program,” the newswoman drew in a steadying breath, turning to the other anchor. “This is an alarming message, both in that these… whatever they are exist, and are loose. The entire situation is unprecedented.”

               “I had to check my calendar to make sure it wasn’t April already, or I’d have called it a hoax,” the newsman’s attempt at humor fell a bit flat due to the nervousness in his voice. “Certainly, if anybody has information on this, they should come forward with it, for all our sakes. I believe these are isolated instances that would be best kept under control.”

               “I have to agree.” Nodding solemnly, the newswoman frowned before continuing, “It’s strange that we’ve seen no previous indication that such creatures existed. It seems like a large jump from glow in the dark trees and Ligers from just a few decades ago to something almost human…“

               The newsman objected, having a different idea and determined to get it out in the time they had. “But are we sure this isn’t simply spontaneous? Genetic modifications in our food, in our animals, in our soils, and waters, and who knows what else, couldn’t they have caused something? Poisons, toxins, those build up in a creature over time. You see it all the time with seagulls, where a seemingly healthy bird takes in one too many fish that has been poisoned by waste and suddenly dies. We’re humans, we’re the top of the food chain, the most _dangerous_ place to be for this sort of thing. But we are _adapters_ , that’s how our species survived.”

               “It could be,” the newswoman conceded. “At this stage, all we _have_ are suppositions, as the announcement came with no further comment. How this isn’t national news already baffles me, though a facility such as this must already have clearance from anybody who could express outrage. From what we were told, it does sound like a containment facility more than anything else. It is only these extreme circumstances that force it into the light, and I’m sure other news outlets will soon grab hold of it. The escapees won’t manage to stay hidden for long.”

               “We can only wonder what _else_ is being kept under wraps.” The newsman looked dissatisfied to leave it at that, but the programming demanded they move on. “Here’s hoping they’re sent back where they belong, and quickly. It seems that mutants aren’t just a thing of comic books anymore.”

* * *

 

               Hiro almost missed it.

               Two texts from different friends in rapid succession was enough to pull him away from work for a moment to see what the matter was. Wasabi and Honey Lemon didn’t tend to text during the same time frame, so hearing their distinct chimes one after the other was enough to set him on edge. As he fished for his phone in his jacket, he tried to convince himself that just maybe it was good news, or even just a coincidence. When a third chime rang, signifying Fred’s addition, Hiro mentally discarded the latter idea, unlocking his phone with shaking hands.

               A stab of dread pierced him when all three texts were extremely short, simply indicating he watch the news in one way or another. Further information was not forthcoming, and Hiro almost waited for Gogo’s inevitable text before realizing she was probably with Wasabi and wouldn’t be sending a unique one. Hiro made it all the way to the living room, remote in hand before realizing he was missing an important piece of information.

_Which_ news?

               Before he even had a chance to send off the question, Wasabi seemed to realize the issue from far away, the next text containing the proper channel. Hiro hurriedly flipped to that station, rewinding thirty minutes and then crawling the broadcast forward to the start of the show. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and while he almost hoped for it to be good news, the nagging feeling in his gut told him it wouldn’t be. He watched with bated breath for exactly what they must have been talking about, and didn’t have to wait long.

               He almost let himself relax at the mention of the breakout, because surely his friends just wanted to get the team back together to fix the issue, right? That theory was scattered into fragments of thought as the anchorwoman continued and the announcement popped onto the screen.

               Through the chaotic haze of thoughts that there were _more_ and he couldn’t just hide everything under a rock in good conscious now (though he might still be tempted to try) a lingering sense of deja-vu grew stronger in the back of his mind as the first ‘patient’ was described. Hiro paused the program, fixating on the image but unable to fit the loose pieces of information into place.

               Flashes of the taste of salt water, a faded sense of shock—

               A faint knowledge that the water must be freezing—

               But even as these scraps of memory flittered through his head they were gone, blown to dust and leaving nothing but an urgent sensation that he was _forgetting something_. Unable to pull anything more from this first one, Hiro determined he would just have to come back to it, and resumed the program.

               A sickening acknowledgement quickly followed the announcement of the second escapee, a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat as there was no room for doubt in Hiro’s mind. Unless there were multiples, (which was possible, if not for the temperament that Hiro’s own memory of the events of three years ago corroborated) ‘Kyouji’ was easily identifiable. Anger welled up in Hiro, and he struggled to keep his breathing under control. This must be what his friends were referring to, and he’d see to it that he was caught. Hiro would personally make sure that ‘Kyouji’ was going back.

               A flash of memory interrupted Hiro’s anger, an unrecognized voice, yet familiar in a strange sense, echoing in his head.

_“I’m not going back.”_

               Hiro could almost place it, the discovery just out of reach as he struggled to draw everything together, when the next escapee flashed on screen.

               That. That couldn’t be right.

               The description was far too close for comfort. There was information missing that could prove otherwise, but even the specifications given, “child” and “flaming wings,” struck too close for comfort. Was there another? Or… were they actually describing Tadashi?

               But he hadn’t _escaped_ anything, unless they were counting what happened three years ago. Was that where he’d been? Would they wait that long to announce it? And with ‘Kyouji’s’ presence… surely that must be how they knew anything. If it even was Tadashi they were describing. That was a major _if_.

               Hiro’s thoughts carried him through the broadcaster’s comments, only the sensation of their obvious fear breaking through. He had the vague sense that anything they’d have to say would just be pushing their own agendas, and rewound to the announcement, only remembering after the fact that he could have just fast forwarded to the promised second playing of it.

               Pausing on the screen with the three boxed descriptions and the phone numbers underneath, Hiro hesitated. If they _were_ after Tadashi, he probably needed to avoid them at all costs, or else he would risk drawing attention to them. But there was still the possibility it wasn’t him.

               Sure. There had to be another child with fire powers roaming around, specifically wings, especially with the revelation that there _were_ more hybrids out there. (The term mutants inexplicably set Hiro’s teeth on edge. Even the term chimera would be preferable.)

               Hiro knew he was lying to himself, even as hopeful doubt tugged at his mind. Even on the off chance that he did manage to hunt down ‘Kyouji,’ what was to stop the… what were they called, Retrievers, from taking Tadashi, too? Maybe he could strike a deal? Or just keep Tadashi hidden while he went to work. They hadn’t listed anything like his own abilities, so _he_ was probably safe.

               They _must_ be the people who’d had him before, there wasn’t another explanation that made sense. Or at least, made sense without the intruding feeling that he was dangerously reaching to protect his sense of security. Hiro knew he’d have to play this one close to his chest if he wanted to keep Tadashi safe, and debated just leaving it. With everyone looking for ‘Kyouji,’ he doubted he could stay hidden for long, even without any additional description or help Hiro could offer.

               But Hiro didn’t _want_ to leave it to someone else, he wanted _answers_.

               That was all. Definitely. Hiro was _better_ than any other kind of revenge. He was better than _him._

               He’d just return him where he belonged. He could manage that, right? Get some answers, not reveal Tadashi (be careful not to reveal _himself_ ), and put a dangerous criminal back in containment. All in a day’s work.

               Hiro’s eyes strayed back to the blurry image on the screen. The nagging sense that he was missing something continued to tug at him. A headache blossomed behind his temples, as he struggled to remember _why_ it felt so familiar.

               “Hiro?”

               Hiro turned abruptly to see Tadashi walk in, Takeo following dutifully at his heels. A split-second decision had him turning off the tv. Suspicion would be better than an outright knowledge of what was going on.

               “Teddy, what are you doing up?” Hiro, annoyed at the interruption and wanting to deal with one problem at a time and _by himself_ , needed to send Tadashi away as soon as possible. “You’re still physically developing, you have to sleep—“

               Tadashi scrunched his nose at the nickname he’d never fully been able to shake. “I have a phone too, Hiro.” He tiredly held it up, looking towards the now blank tv screen. “Did you really think they’d only tell you? What’s going on?”

               Hiro felt like that in itself was a contradiction, but kept the remote out of Tadashi reach regardless. “Nothing you need to worry about, I can handle it.”

               “Right.” At Tadashi’s too quick and sarcastic sounding agreement, Hiro was immediately put on guard. “Okay, I’d hoped you wouldn’t lie to me, _again,_ but maybe you’ve somehow convinced yourself you aren’t. You can pull up tv stations on the computer upstairs, you know.”

               Hiro grimaced, caught. So Tadashi had already seen it. Great way to start off this conversation.

               “I’m _not_ lying, Tadashi,” Hiro desperately tried to redirect. “I can take care of all of this, I just need time to process. The important thing is that you stay hidden, which is what we have _already_ been doing, so it’s not like that much has to change—“

               “Oh, so I suppose that means no more leaving the house without you, _again_.”

               Hiro sighed in frustration, barely catching himself when he felt the fire inside him stirring. “Yes, okay, but it’s not _just_ them, now that we know for _sure_ Kyouji’s around again, we have to be _careful._ ”

               “Kyouji? What’s he got to do—“ Tadashi stared blankly before realization dawned behind his eyes. Despite being in the physical body of a child, his intelligence met and even surpassed where he’d been nine years ago.

               Belatedly, Hiro realized his friends wouldn’t have been telling him about ‘Kyouji’ at all, they hadn’t known enough to piece that one together. The vital identifying piece he’d kept to himself. And now he’d slipped up and told Tadashi. Perfect.

               “Wait. You knew. You _knew_ there were others?” Tadashi stared up at him, confusion and hurt swirling together. “But just _yesterday_ you said—“

               “I know.” Hiro cut him off, hoping to save time, but only succeeding in angering him further.

               “ _Obviously.”_ Tadashi, fed up with all of this, didn’t bother stopping himself from unloading. “I can’t trust you when you keep doing stuff like this! I’m not stupid, I’m _not_ a child, and if you think just keeping me in the dark is going to fix things, you’re dead wrong—“

               “I can’t lose you _again_ , okay?!” Hiro shouted, rounding on Tadashi. “I’m just keeping you safe!”

               “You’re being _selfish_.” Glaring up at him, Tadashi’s eyes flashed orange. “It’s been _years,_ we could’ve helped so many people by now if you weren’t so hell-bent on keeping everything hidden. I went along with it because _I_ thought you’d snap out of it eventually, and with Honey’s lab working with the tears, I figured at least _something_ was getting done. Or are you keeping that from me _too?_ Anything else you want to share? _”_

               Hiro grit his teeth, trying to put something coherent together around the pointed barbs of the conversation. “I’m not being _selfish_ , I’m _thinking._ If they got in the wrong hands, you know what damage they could do? What about soldiers who can’t _die_? Or rich dictators who can afford to get their hands on however much they want and demand more? Those snakes would bleed you dry, damn any _good_ that could have come out of it. They’d never be used for the ‘common person’ if we were open about it—“

               “Sounds like a good way to make sure they don’t get used at _all_ ,” Tadashi jabbed.

               Hiro opened his mouth to retaliate when the door to their Aunt’s room opened.

               “Boys?” She made her way over to the living area, gingerly picking her way around the furniture and giving Takeo a little attention, hoping to settle the anxiety that had cropped up in him at the boys’ yelling.

               Tadashi at least had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry to wake you, Aunt Cass.”

               “It’s alright, I’ve got plenty of time to sleep later.” She settled herself into one of the chairs, somehow making the aggressive tone of the room diminish by the simple action. “I’d ask what was going on, but you two were loud enough that I don’t have to guess.”

               Hiro nodded, falling into the couch. He was fully prepared to be chewed out, and just clench his teeth through all of it. He was doing the right thing, he was sure of it.

               Instead, Aunt Cass looked between the two of them and sighed. “It’s late, and the both of you are too riled up to listen to each other. I can set up the futon down here to give you a bit of distance, and you can talk it out when you’re calmer. Okay?”

               Tadashi quickly jumped on the idea. “Yeah, I’ll take the futon.”

               _Brat_. Hiro glared at him, ignoring any rationality that this was the best solution for now. He stood, returning to the room upstairs without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

 

Friday, January 24th, 2042

1 AM

* * *

 

               “And just how is this _not_ a problem?” Jadoku challenged, barely keeping his tone on the right side of respectful.

               Himitsu spoke up, hoping to get Jadoku to put away the proverbial claws before he caused unnecessary issues. “Well, it ain’t like they’re comin’ _here_ ,” he pointed out.

               “Oh, that makes it better?” Jadoku scowled at him, everything setting him on edge. “I guess I’ll get shut inside again—“

               “The last time you were ‘shut inside’ was because of your own injury,” Taishou reminded him. “Not because you couldn’t be protected.”

               “Yeah, and anyhow, they don’t have much to go on,” Himitsu chimed in. “Not like ya flaunt yer scales, despite my best efforts.”

               Himitsu’s grin was met with an unimpressed, but less hostile look. Slowly but surely, Jadoku’s tension was easing off. Taishou was satisfied to remain as he was and let Himitsu try to level things.

               “If yer really worried about it, you can dye yer hair.”

               “I’d rather not,” Jadoku replied shortly.

               Himitsu nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t stick. ‘Sides, it’s unnecessary and I’d miss it.”

               Jadoku rolled his eyes and glanced away, pacified for the moment. He wasn’t going to waste any more moments of clarity needlessly angry… if he could hold himself to that.

               “No one who knows’d dare do anythin’ anyway.” Himitsu leaned back, certain. “And judgin’ by how little _they’ve_ got, I don’t have to worry ‘bout huntin’ down and skinnin’ Ollie. He only told what he was allowed. Which _means_ —“

               At this, Himitsu turned to Taishou hopefully. They now had both a good and bad push to move forward. They _had_ to.

               “Yes, now would be best,” Taishou acknowledged, looking over at Jadoku. “The sooner the better.”

               Jadoku fixed his gaze on his hands, watching them go in and out of focus. “Would it matter if the Retrievers had a false trail to go after?”

               “Something to consider, but it wouldn’t be strictly necessary. If they had any level of competency, the announcement wouldn’t have been needed at all.”

               In the silence that followed, Himitsu smirked, relief and humor coloring his actions. “’Retrievers,’ what are they, dogs?”

               “Wouldn’t be surprising,” Jadoku muttered. “How better to hunt a fish, a bird, and a snake?”

               “Huh. Well, when ya put it like that…”

               The conversation devolved from there, Jadoku responding mindlessly until Himitsu was reminded by Taishou that if they wanted to move forward anytime soon, he had work to do. Then it was like Himitsu couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Jadoku stared at the door that was still swinging shut, before focusing his attention on standing steadily. No need to push his luck.

               “Jadoku?”

               Taishou commanded his attention, and he looked up to meet his eyes. It was still difficult to maintain, even _knowing_ that that was what was expected of him. At least Taishou didn’t have him wait this time; he could already feel his focus slipping.

               “There _will_ be some precautions put in place. We won’t lose you to something avoidable, understand?”

               Jadoku glanced away, startling slightly at the sudden grip on his shoulder. It didn’t vise down, which _shouldn’t_ have been surprising, even if he’d half expected it. He dragged together his nerve and his scattered thoughts, looking up at him again.

               “Yes, sir.” Jadoku weighed the merit of his question in his mind before speaking. “Will I still be allowed to go on the mission?”

               Taishou regarded him curiously, searching for something. Jadoku held still under the scrutiny, determined not to waver just enough for whatever this was. “Yes. For now.”

               Only after Taishou had left and was out of sight did Jadoku’s shoulders fall in relief, breath rushing out of him. Pinching his eyes shut uselessly against the coming headache, oranges and yellows dancing behind his eyelids regardless of where he was now, he mentally congratulated himself on keeping it at bay _just_ long enough. At least this way he wouldn’t be entirely useless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun culture fact: Japanese people typically break eye contact after a comparatively shorter amount of time than those in Western countries do, because it's considered rude or creepy to maintain. That's what makes Taishou's request of Jadoku (and Himitsu in some cases) strange. It serves an intentional purpose, but it's a abrupt shift for Jadoku, who grew up in a loosely Japanese household (or at least in the sense that 'customs' were manipulated to achieve certain outcomes, while others were ignored). 
> 
> I got a bit distracted this week when the second season of Voltron dropped on Friday. Definitely worth the watch.
> 
> Thank you for the reviews, I always appreciate them! Hope to see you next week!


	6. Inflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro has multiple moments, teetering on the edge of dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but school's out, and I have a modicum of free time again. Quite a bit, actually, so I'm going to get back on a consistent posting schedule. The plan is for the chapter after this to be up by the weekend, and the one after to kick off the appropriate weekly basis.
> 
> I wanted to post this one today specifically because it's Himitsu's appointed birthday! Hurrah! No one is surprised that he's a Gemini. Okay, on to the actual story!

Friday, January 24th, 2042

            Hiro did not, in fact, speak to Tadashi upon waking.

            Considering how well he knew his brother’s schedule, it would have been easy to completely avoid him. In fact, if he’d felt he needed to, Hiro could have just left the house before anyone woke up, escaping the conflict altogether. The trick was in being able to avoid a situation where they’d have to talk, while _still_ being able to keep an eye on him. With that in mind, and more than enough empty time on his hands, Hiro had carefully devised a strategy to maximize the time he’d have to figure things out on his own before any kind of confrontation occurred.

            The first step was factoring his well-meaning aunt out of the equation. Fridays meant that Aunt Cass had to open shop, so Hiro had known he could keep her from forcing the issue by simply staying in bed until she was needed downstairs. He knew she expected him to make nice with Tadashi, even if she would only communicate it through disappointed looks and weighted silences.

            Leaning back in his chair, taking advantage of his carefully chosen vantage point, Hiro smiled faintly, despite himself. He could envision _exactly_ which faces she would make, the way questions would be so innocent and yet bent to make sure the issue couldn’t be easily pushed to the side. In particular, one tiff came to mind from before all this went down, before the fire, before everything came to light.

            Hiro couldn’t remember what had _started_ it, but it boiled down to him ignoring Tadashi’s by then routine attempts to make Hiro care about something he had no interest in. Aunt Cass hadn’t had to confront them directly, beyond the initial statement that they should get along, but both boys had been made uncomfortable enough just by how _off_ everything had felt to eventually talk it out. It was better than having to deal with the atmosphere she created otherwise. Who said she’d _needed_ a book on parenting?

            Giving his aunt room to guilt him into it wasn’t an option.

            So, as a second precautionary step, Hiro set about making sure he was incredibly busy, or at least looked it. It wasn’t difficult to grab a table in the café, his back to the wall, face to the door, and laptop in front of him. Today was _just_ busy enough, and Hiro had chosen a seat _just_ far enough from the counter that his Aunt didn’t have the time nor space to walk over and speak to him. Sitting in public was strategic in and of itself, because she couldn’t easily call out to him, and with his eyes on the computer, looks were pretty much nullified as well.

            That was one of two people dealt with for the moment.

            When Tadashi finally came downstairs a half hour after the shop opened, right on schedule, he appeared ready to say something to Hiro, before realizing the bounds that being in public would put on the conversation. Studiously ignoring the annoyed look on his brother’s face, Hiro worked through his ever-growing pile of emails and considered the merits of organizing this beyond just having a separate email for work.

            …why not? How better to put off current issues than to do something not strictly necessary and yet still useful?

            Mindlessly sorting correspondence into appropriate folders provided an anchor for the more prone to distraction parts of Hiro’s mind, allowing him to focus on the ultimate task at hand:

            What to do about all of this?

            When had they ‘escaped’, exactly?

            Why was Tadashi listed? Was it even Tadashi?

            If these were just the ones that got free, did that mean there were more that _hadn’t_?

            The last thought had Hiro’s hands stilling over the keyboard.

            His gaze flicked over to where his Aunt was passing an order over the counter to a customer, before darting back to his computer screen before they could make eye contact. Hiro knew his aunt was the best option for information as far as his parent’s project had gone, whether this was truly connected or not. But then, did she even know any more about it than what she’d told them at the hospital years ago? It’d been so long since Hiro had wanted to acknowledge it, let alone _talk_ about it… Try as he might, he could only remember the bare essentials of what she’d said: his parents had worked on a project, solely between the two of them, and after they’d stopped someone _had_ picked it up, but the subject (subjects?) had died.

            And then up until now there had been nothing public on the subject, no announcements of breakthroughs, nothing he could upturn by the digging he’d done after having gone upstairs the night before, too wired to immediately fall asleep. The search, even now knowing what to look into, resulted in nothing. There were no special mentions of funding to the place that had announced the breakout, no obvious connections to Krei Tech beyond what any research facility could boast in the San Fransokyo area, and if the announcement hadn’t been made, what he could find on the place itself would have raised no red flags that anything of the sort was occurring. It wasn’t even that big of an organization, from what he could tell.

            Had the announcement been a mistake? Or perhaps a lapse in judgement? Why force something so well concealed into the limelight at all? What would they get out of it? What did they possibly have to gain (or lose)?

            Hiro sighed, drumming his fingers beside the mousepad on the laptop. His fingers froze.

            Unless there was a real and present danger, despite what they said.

            Intellectual property issues could be handled discreetly, as could, likely, just a harmless runaway situation. But if there was potential for one or all of them to cause something that would eventually drag them into the public eye anyway, say by killing or maiming someone— (a memory of so much _red_ flashed across Hiro’s mind before being pushed aside) that could spell out more problems than coming forward with it now…

            But if _that_ had been years ago, what did that mean for the situation now?

            Hiro groaned, letting his head fall to the table with a dull thud. He _hated_ not having all the pieces. He was bound to misstep with only partial information, and a mistake would mean disaster. Turning his head to look over at Tadashi, Hiro scowled at himself. He had to play this right.

            And that meant finding out _exactly_ what his aunt knew. Which meant talking to her. Which meant dealing with all of this before he had all the information. And he was back to square one.

            Sighing heavily and straightening before any kind-hearted soul asked if he was alright, Hiro refocused on his computer. Words and names swam in circles on the screen as he uselessly tried to refocus on his earlier task. A moment of blank staring had him minimizing the screen and clicking the ‘evidence’ file on his desktop out of habit. Maybe working on another open-ended project could get his mind off of things.

            Unsurprisingly, staring at a list of names isn’t helpful in figuring out why they died. At all. The mysterious disease’s cause, if that’s what it truly was, stayed a mystery. Add yet another thing to the growing list of problems he couldn’t fix.

            Hiro finally shut the computer, giving up on being productive for the moment and blearily thinking how nice it would be if everything were simple and interconnected. If only just pulling on the right string would result in the entire web crumbling and revealing the truth…

            But no, unlike in the movies where everything is nicely wrapped up within the two or so hours of the film, this would actually take a while. More than one thing might _never_ have an answer, a reality that didn’t settle well with Hiro. What good was his brain if he couldn’t make it solve important problems like this?

            Scoffing, Hiro began absentmindedly folding a napkin into something that could almost pass as a paper crane. If, for instance, he could tie the breakouts to the disease, _that_ would be something, but even the timelines were murky. Even if he could find the absolute beginning of the appearances of the disease, asking around about the escapees would potentially endanger Tadashi. Which would then make all his efforts null and void, so _that_ wasn’t an option.

            The bubbling frustration made Hiro want to scream, heat spilling through his chest, and this realization brought into question the last time he’d allowed himself to ‘outlet’ his fire. The times between needing to do so had increased, but so had the reserves he had to empty. Hiro was sure that it would be fine for a while yet, but if these people were out looking for their runaways, would they be overly interested in someone similar? His gut told him not to trust them too much, and to be especially careful when the time came to empty whatever reserves he had, but a small part of him wondered if that gut-instinct was just how he approached everything now.

            If they’d not mentioned Tadashi, Hiro might have been more willing to consider them as potential allies, or at least someone to get information from. Grimacing, Hiro reminded himself that they weren’t even sure it _was_ Tadashi who’d been described, but the similarities were too close for comfort. The mess only got more tangled the further Hiro considered it. He was half tempted to take out a journal to map out what was known and what was supposed, but that would leave a paper trail of sorts that someone could find and use against them. Hiro supposed he could just burn it after understanding it himself…

            Shaking his head, Hiro glanced around the café again, monitoring for anyone suspicious looking. Especially right after the announcement, there was likely to be _someone_ who knew _something_ and where they lived. Staying in one place almost felt like asking for trouble. It had been a trial and a half for him to be convinced that their family shouldn’t move in the year immediately following his aunt’s recovery, and he’d only been placated by buying something of a safe-house just outside of the immediate Bay Area. It wasn’t the cheapest, but it helped settle his mind that they at least had somewhere to _go_ if things went wrong. It wasn’t like he had just a whole lot of other places to funnel earned profits now that he was out of college.

            The anxious itch that train of thought brought with it created a restlessness that just keeping an eye out for trouble wouldn’t fix. They were sitting ducks in here.

            They needed to leave.

            They needed to leave _now_.

            Quickly spotting Tadashi again, where he was hanging out near the counter, Hiro shoved his laptop into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he approached, all thoughts of avoiding conversation forgotten in the wake of the unshakeable feeling of danger.

            Tadashi looked up as his brother approached, tentative hope changing to concern when he saw the look on his face. “Hiro?”

            “C’mon, we’re going on a walk.” Hiro extended his hand to take Tadashi’s firmly. “Where’s Takeo?”

            The dog lifted his head from where it was resting on his paws, dutifully trotting over at the sound of his name.

            “Great, okay, let’s go.” Hiro tightened his grip to hide the shakiness fed by adrenalin.

            Tadashi didn’t resist when Hiro led them towards the door, though an explanation might be nice. “Hiro, what—“

            “You wanted to talk, didn’t you?” Hiro absently asked as he pulled Takeo’s leash off the hook and clipped it to the almost behaved for once dog. “Perfect opportunity, let’s go.”

            Tadashi doubted Hiro was planning to be so amenable so easily. The grip Hiro had on his hand, the look in his eye, and the pace he set to who knew where only conveyed fear, the same toxic fear that fueled some of Hiro’s more aggravating creations. He could feel the metal pendant around his neck with every too-fast step and wondered if they’d ever get back a semblance of ‘normal’.

* * *

 

            Hiro hurried them along, Takeo keeping easy pace with the brothers as they ventured further and further away from the café. He let his feet lead him forward, back-tracking whenever it felt like his path was too direct. It was only when Tadashi started showing signs of exhaustion that he realized they’d been switching between walking and nearly sprinting for a couple of hours. Carrying Tadashi wouldn’t be as easy as it had been when he was ‘five,’ and the exhausted eight-year-old would have trouble escaping if anything came up without doing something drastic. On top of that, Takeo was starting to slow as well, and Hiro knew he couldn’t carry them both. When was the last time he’d done anything physically strenuous? _That_ would need to be remedied.

            He finally relented after another few minutes, taking a faster, if less safe route, arriving at their destination after another forty-five minutes. The trip should have taken thirty minutes at the most, using the right buses, but you couldn’t switch directions on a bus if you thought you were being tailed. Hiro felt himself relax a little at the sight of the house, heartbeat dropping from raindrops on a tin roof to something almost reasonable.

            Tadashi shifted back on the heels of his feet uncomfortably. He had known Hiro owned a place, but he’d never been himself, not wanting to encourage Hiro’s use of it. A chill went through Tadashi, quite clearly not from the weather. He hadn’t had to worry about _that_ for years, but he’d gladly have traded feeling a bit chilly again for the ever-present fear that controlled Hiro’s, and thus his, life. Every time they thought things were getting better, something like this would crop up. Maybe the announcement was finally sinking in for Hiro. Maybe it was something else.

            The place was small, one of many that lined the street and easily overlooked. It connected to another similar house on one side, the other side gated, with a narrow alley leading towards the back of the house. From what Tadashi could see, it was either a very tall one story, or a very short two story, at least compared to their actual home. It gave him the creeps.

            Hiro seemed pleased, unlocking the gate with a weird looking key and leading them around the side of the house, rather than through the front door. Tadashi remained close, Takeo sniffing around his new surroundings as far as he was able. The gate clicked shut on its own behind them with a finality that made Tadashi flinch.

            There wasn’t much behind the house, closed in by the surrounding buildings, without so much as a window facing it. At most a cat might be able to find its way in. Maybe. Tadashi looked up at the opening towards the sky, as if expecting some kind of electric net.

            Not spotting anything, Tadashi turned back towards his brother just in time to see him closing some paneling and unlocking the door. He moved to follow, but was waved back as Hiro put a series of numbers into an alarm system just inside the door. Only when Hiro nodded to him did he enter, blind to what was inside the inky blackness that the small triangle of sunshine from the doorway failed to illuminate until Hiro flicked on a light.

            Once inside, Tadashi looked around, unsettled. There was nothing distinctly creepy about the layout: a worn, likely second or thirdhand couch and chairs where one would expect them to be in the living area. The low ceiling allowed the sparse light to sufficiently fill the room, keeping the shadows out of the corners.

            Tadashi tried not to think too hard on what might’ve happened if Hiro hadn’t entered the code. Hiro’s continued lack in trust in the police dissuaded the thought that it would just act as an alarm, and the sight of the barred and sealed front door down the hall was enough to put ideas into his head.

            Nosing around the unfamiliar environment, Takeo seemed satisfied and curled up on the couch nearest to where Tadashi still lingered, the boy uncertain if it was safe to explore much further. As Hiro turned on another light, Tadashi realized part of what had so disturbed him. There were no uncovered windows of any kind, no natural light to offset the artificial.

            “Wait here,” Hiro told Tadashi quietly, moving further into the house, checking every corner systematically.

            “What—“ Tadashi started, confused, before Hiro hushed him. He curled up near Takeo, waiting for his brother to finish… whatever he was doing. The length of time Hiro was gone began to concern him, even after he factored in the real possibility of a second floor (and maybe a basement). Just as Tadashi stood to go check on him, Hiro made a near-silent reappearance.

            “Okay, seems clear, but stay on guard anyway.”

            Hiro’s words, surprisingly, didn’t make him feel any safer.

            As Hiro set up something of a workstation, dragging furniture around to mimic a desk area in the living room, Tadashi set out to explore the house, fueled in part by curiosity, but more so by the desire to get away from the anxious energy Hiro expelled from every pore.

            He was surprised to see that the… safehouse, he supposed, was almost ready to live in just as it was. Besides computers or televisions, the place seemed to lack in nothing. The kitchen was stocked with food and drinks that, while not fresh, weren’t in danger of expiring in the next year (or more for some things). The downstairs bathroom was similarly stocked with necessities; multiple tubes of toothpaste, packaged toothbrushes, and bottles of 3-in-1 soap were piled under the sink next to towels and toilet paper.  Just what had Hiro been planning to use all of this for?

            Closing the bathroom door behind himself, Tadashi turned to the stairway, eyeing the door nearest it. Hoping for a closet, he tried the handle, telling himself the small spark of fear in his gut was baseless. The door swung inwards, revealing a small landing at the top of a series of stairs descending into the darkness.

            Lovely.

            Tadashi felt around for a light switch before finally looking up to find the pull chain. He could reach that… probably. Straining to get a grip on the cat charm that served as the base of the chain, Tadashi swore that he’d get his brother to buy an extender or _something_ … if they were ever coming back here.

            Almost… got it! The light clicked on, leaving a dark spot in his vision and forcing his eyes to adjust again.

            Nearly jumping out of his skin, Tadashi most certainly did not _shriek_ when something bumped into him from behind, forcing him to grab the nearest surface for balance. Even a good foot away, the end of the landing felt heart-stoppingly close. His mind a haze, he was almost too afraid to look, an irrational fear gripping him. Who knows how long he would have stood there if the dog had not then shuffled around him, tilting his head at the curious noise his owner had made.

            Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Tadashi spared the dog some attention. He must have gotten antsy staying with Hiro.

            “ _Takeo_ ,” Tadashi scolded, a mix of exasperation and relief coloring his words. “Weren’t you meant to keep me _safe_?”

            The dog had no understanding of the words beyond his name, and the tone was nice, so clearly, he had done something good. Tadashi watched Takeo circle happily for a while before the dog made his way down the stairs, sniffing around just outside the range of the light fixture. Tadashi made to follow him, finally letting go off the banister once he realized he was still holding on to it. His hands came away to reveal two scorch marks, dark against the pale wood. Oops.

            Hoping that Hiro wouldn’t see that, or at least wouldn’t ask, Tadashi was satisfactorily distracted enough to forget the ominous feel of the basement and made his way down the steps. By the time he reached the bottom, the tight feeling of nerves had returned, but the light switch was well within reach this time. No one was around who would judge him for darting out to flip it on as quickly as possible.

            The basement was not any of the horrors he had imagined in the scant minutes he’d known about it. It almost looked cozy.

            _No_ , Tadashi mentally corrected himself, _it looks like a bunker_.

            Sure enough, right about where the bathroom upstairs was, sat another, properly equipped bathroom, which Tadashi supposed made sense to make piping easier. There were a couple twin-sized mattresses stacked in the back, and a sagging couch Tadashi didn’t realize had wheels at the base until Takeo jumped on it and it _moved_. Cabinets and boxes lined two of the walls, and Tadashi didn’t feel adventurous enough to dig through them.

            Baffled, Tadashi took another look at his surroundings. When had Hiro found the time to set up all of this? Sure, it had been a couple years, and Hiro had certainly become the type that would be paranoid enough to do this, but… There had been too much of not letting Tadashi out of his sight at first, and Tadashi had hoped he was getting better.

            Guess not. Plopping down on the couch, Tadashi shifted to regain his balance upon its movement and sighed. He’d have to tell Aunt Cass about this, if she didn’t already know. There had to be _something_ that would help him that he’d agree to. This was a lot worse than he’d feared.

* * *

 

            Hiro exhaled harshly, scrubbing at his hair for a moment. No, no, this wasn’t any better. Marginally, maybe, but not enough. He’d nearly bolted from his chair when he’d heard Tadashi a moment ago, but the following words calmed him just enough to keep him where he was. He was just frustrated, now. He’d really thought this would work.

            Hiro took stock again. Tadashi was in the house, assumedly safe. He could see the only possible entrance or exit, which was now locked. They were about as safe as they were going to get. So why couldn’t he _breathe_?

            Maybe that was it, he determined. It _had_ to be the fire breathing thing that had him all stirred up. He knew he had more… patience, control, whatever it was that kept him from wanting to pace uselessly in agitation. It _had_ to be the fact he hadn’t just gone and let it out in… damn, how long _had_ it been?

            Hiro tried to mentally backtrack, before giving it up as a hopeless cause. It didn’t matter anyway, since he _couldn’t_ go back there, because—

            And suddenly it felt like the floor had been pulled out from underneath him. There it was again, the feeling that he _knew_ something, but it was just out of reach. He’d almost _had_ it this time. Why couldn’t he go back there? Would he get answers if he did? Was it dangerous to?

            Hiro traced the last time he’d felt like this back to the announcement, and _logically_ it made sense that they were connected. However, it was one thing to make up a thousand theories, and quite another to retrieve a true memory of who and why and how. The harder he thought on it or tried to think around it to reveal it, the further away it danced. The taste of sea salt and the smell of the ocean were absolutely useless sensory details, but they were all he could reliably conjure up.

            Fine.

            He’d just have to go.

            But he wasn’t about to put Tadashi in that kind of danger, seeing as he didn’t even know what he was going to find. He couldn’t ignore it for any longer, but for all he knew, he’d be walking into a death trap. If that happened, the café wouldn’t be a safe zone for Tadashi anymore; it was too widely known. Hiro was left with no choice… Tadashi was going to hate him for this.

            Throwing together his things, Hiro went to find him, chancing upon the open basement door. He paused when he saw Tadashi sitting there morosely on the couch with Takeo. His hand hovered over the door handle, hesitating for a moment before steeling himself. It’d be fine.

            “Hey, Dashi?” Tadashi didn’t so much as look up at him, which Hiro supposed made this easier. “I gotta run somewhere, I’ll be right back and you’ll be fine down here, so uh— don’t try to bust out.”

            _That_ got his attention, his head shooting up to look at him in shock. “Wait, _what_?”

            It was surprisingly painless to slam the door shut in his haste, flipping the lock and rushing for the backdoor. The haste and adrenalin almost reminded him of his bot fighting days, though with a bit lower of a probability of getting his head bashed in.

            He didn’t allow himself time to think or feel, rushing through the shutdown command codes and barely making sure everything was as it should be to lock up behind him.

            Tadashi would forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> (Reviews are lifeblood, and critiques welcome. I'll only cry a bit and then get better, so have at it!)


	7. Restationing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a side note to any who might face the situation in the future, roach bait is in fact NOT poisonous to dogs. That and using peroxide to try and get them to throw up won't work after two hours and will just make them mad at you.  
> Now, personal issues aside, I'm sticking to once a week posts on Saturday so that the schedule is more consistent than 'whenever I can' going into the future. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Friday, January 24th, 2042

Late Afternoon

* * *

 

          “You’re sure?” Himitsu’s voice was tinged with an unspoken threat that advised honesty.

          Oliver nodded hurriedly, shifting his weight between his feet nervously and casting his gaze across the room. “It’s all I have right now, and I can’t be sure I can offer you another chance once they’re settled—“ He froze.

          Having entered the room moments before, per Himitsu’s request, Jadoku did his best not to be annoyed that the talking stopped the instant his presence was finally noticed. The nervous man fixed his gaze back on the ground, mouth drawn tight. The sudden silence could be felt as a chill in the room.

          Himitsu had already gotten what he wanted from him, so he let it slide, pulling out his phone and getting to work, seeing as their schedule now had to be crammed into a single afternoon. “We’ll see how useful that was after all’s said and done. Go on.”

          Oliver nodded again, giving Jadoku a wide berth on the way out the door. He watched him go coldly, only beginning to relax once the door was shut behind him. Taking a seat, Jadoku waited for Himitsu’s eyes to flick up from his phone, the signal that he was mentally available to talk and do his thing at the same time.

          “You did that on purpose,” Jadoku accused.

          “Nah, just good timin’ on yer part.” The switch was instantaneous, the only traces of ‘business’ lingering in his fast-paced typing. “I just notified ya as soon as it was clear I needed to.”

          Jadoku pulled his legs up onto the couch, nudging Himitsu with his foot in pseudo-annoyance. “So, you couldn’t have waited until dinner because…”

          “Hopefully you’ll be on the road by then.” Himitsu grimaced momentarily. “Okay, maybe not _that_ soon, but it flowed better than ‘bein’ stuck in task prep,’ and got the point across.”

          The confused and disbelieving look from Jadoku prompted him to continue.

          “Apparently, there’s a window tonight where eyes will be elsewhere, so he says we can get in and out unnoticed so long’s we don’t do a ton of pokin’ around. So, ‘less we hear otherwise, we’ve gotta make due with what’ve got, and _you’ve_ got to decide right now if you’re up to it.”

          “What, _now? Tonight?_ ” Jadoku stared incredulously. “But that— that’s _crazy_. I’ll be going in _blind!”_

          His heart threatened to choke him, a reaction to a mission that he hadn’t had in years. But normally things were so much more planned out, spanning weeks, months, even years before he’d been so much as a blip on their radar, in the making. Which, yeah, probably best if you didn’t screw it all up in a few moments, but even then, measures would be taken to minimize that possibility. At worst, there’d be some kind of extraction plan. The room for error _here_ was dangerously small.

          “From the sound o’ it, it’s pretty much the same as the last place ya scoped, just… more,” Himitsu offered, grinning wryly. He hated this more than Jadoku did, but appearances were half the battle. “We’ve got enough info from Ollie ta fill in the rest, ‘specially since he’s been there fer years.”

          “Information you don’t have _time_ to cross-check,” Jadoku pointed out bluntly, knowing how meticulous Himitsu preferred to be, no matter how much he might try to play it off.

          “Don’t remind me,” Himitsu conceded indirectly, allowing the grin to fade out, leaving behind something bordering on somber. “’Sides… you wouldn’t wanna— _I_ don’t want to waste the time it’d take to do this standard, e’en _if_ we had another openin’…”

          He trailed off, refusing to give voice to it. Resisting the urge to clear his throat, Himitsu refocused his attention on his phone, multitasking conversations to try to fit in as much as could possibly be done beforehand. “Anyway. Soon as it is, it’s for the best.”

          Jadoku wasn’t about to admit that he was probably right.

          Nodding his head towards the door, Himitsu led them out into the passageway, needing to get to his workstation sooner rather than later. He didn’t have much time to spend getting Jadoku out of the mindset he was sure to throw himself into, but he’d work with what he had.

          “Plus, the less time we take, the less time they’ve got ta change stuff ‘round from what Oliver told us.” There were never too many people around this area, but Himitsu lowered his voice out of habit anyway, so as to not tempt any of the few into being nosy. “E’en _I_ wouldn’t expect a move so soon after that announcement. You’ll be fine.”

          So, it was already decided _he_ would be going. Not that he’d be happy if it happened without him, but still. Jadoku shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, keeping pace as he became distantly aware that at least today was a good day. Even with people in the general area, his eyes had the decency not to try to drill backwards into his brain. “Yeah, because going in on nothing but the word of some guy who _hates me_ won’t go badly at all.”

          “He doesn’t _hate_ ya. Probably.” Himitsu paused for a half-step before continuing with a shrug. “I mean ya did kill a couple-a his coworkers in front of him. Doubt they were close. Either way, he’s scared shitless. Hilarious, really, but it’s a good thing. Just keep up the ‘stone-cold killer’ façade an’ he’ll leave ya alone.”

          When Jadoku didn’t respond, Himitsu nudged him, aware he wasn’t buying it. “Ollie’s got ‘nough reasons to stay in line, knowin’ what we’d do to him if he crossed us. He ain’t what ya need to worry ‘bout.”

          “Sure.” Scowling darkly, Jadoku mentally fished for another proper excuse to cover his sudden reluctance. “Taishou-sama’s never gonna agree to—“

          “Already did.” Himitsu continued walking with his eyes firmly on his phone, expecting (and rightfully so) that people would just move out of his way. He laughed lightly, sparing a glance over at his partner. “And still so _formal_. Or ‘s that supposed to be for effect?”

          He was changing the subject on purpose, a fact Jadoku was too familiar with. Was it still baiting if both people knew they were on the same page? Regardless of the answer, he’d go along with it.

          “It doesn’t feel right to _just_ call him by his name,” Jadoku fixed him with a look, his expression not softening even as the conversation changed. He didn’t have to bring up the mission again to let Himitsu know he still wasn’t happy about it. “Permission or not.”

          “Dunno how ya still have it in yer head that he’s gonna smite you or somethin’.” It was an old joke, one that Jadoku only recently understood: Jupiter, Inazuma, lightning… hilarious.

          Reaching his destination, Himitsu unlocked his door, dragging around moveable furniture as soon as he was inside into a setup that would allow more to be done simultaneously. In seconds he had something of a system.

          “Now s’much as I’d love to have ya stay and glare at me for the next few hours, ya need to go get ready.” Taking advantage of Jadoku’s mental preoccupation, Himitsu dropped a quick peck on his forehead in goodbye before getting back to getting everything hooked up, grinning at the startled-back-to-awareness look on Jadoku’s face.

          Jadoku took the kind dismissal for what it was and turned to leave. Refusing to acknowledge the well-meaning ‘Eat somethin’!’ that was called after him, he decided to go burn off the excess nervous energy in a way he hoped he didn’t regret later.  

       

* * *

  

          The radio silence until he was properly inside the building was more unnerving to Jadoku than all that had been tossed into the whirlwind his afternoon and evening had become. It was almost calming, the dark and the near absolute silence, and that alone made him all the more certain he was going to screw something up. A wrong turn, tripping a silent alarm, or any number of tiny, unknowing mistakes could leave him stranded. While he did have a few tricks up his sleeve in case of emergency, he’d almost rather just wait for some kind of rescue than utilize them.

          At least Oliver seemed to have pulled through, or have been ridiculously lucky. Jadoku hadn’t so much as sensed anyone nearby. Even knowing that there were multiple people pulling strings behind the scenes, the place felt too empty. He did his best not to get spooked. The last place had been like this too, right up to the stated time constraint, he tried to remind himself.

          But would security be this seemingly lax if they had anything useful or compromising in the first place? Were they used to being so utterly under the radar that it didn’t matter? Even without answers to these questions, running them through his head kept Jadoku in the present, a contradictory, yet useful habit to combat the creeping sense of having stepped into some kind of twilight zone. Feeding the anxious feeling in his gut would hopefully prevent him from getting careless.

          The layout was practically identical to the last place, but his destination was different, so unfortunately, he couldn’t run on autopilot. The spare time he didn’t spend questioning the entire operation went to reviewing the mental map he’d had to cram into his head hours previously. He moved silently, muscles tensed like rubber bands ready to snap, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he found the appropriate door.

          _Supposedly_.

          _According to Oliver._

          Shoving those thoughts to the side, he focused on the typical electronic lock on the door. They’d have been better off using a high up deadbolt lock on a sheer wall. He rucked up his sleeve, exposing the still-present electronic armband. It was a newer version, one that felt far less like a threat, to the point that if for whatever reason he had to take it off, he felt unsettled, aware of its absence.

          Holding it up to the lock, not trusting the short range to be effective otherwise, he pressed a button and watched the tiny light go out, the door itself swinging open marginally now it was no longer held shut by a magnet. It was their only method at getting in there unnoticed without having to wipe the record of someone’s visit. Making his way in, he pulled the door shut and waited for the power to return before releasing it. As had been repeated _multiple_ times in the briefing, the door needed to never have been recorded as ‘open’. Otherwise, he may as well run through the place in broad daylight screaming that they should update security.

          And so, one of the more difficult and easy to mess up parts of an assignment became child’s play. Maybe he’d thank Himitsu later, if he wasn’t being insufferable at the time. For now, he needed to get communications online, or he really would be doing this blind, and that was a _lot_ more files than he’d been expecting.

          Patching in the communication unit and waiting for the signal to go through gave him time to look around. The almost nonexistent light would be ideal for him usually, but trying to read anything, or even see anything non-living beyond distinct shapes, could potentially pose a huge problem. The original idea was that he wouldn’t need to, he could just scan everything in and be on his way. But this was a lot more than any of them had planned for, and he had no way of knowing what was important.

          _Might have been a helpful detail, **Oliver**_.

          Before irritation could bloom into anger, the connection went through.

          “Any issues?” The voice came through more fractured than Jadoku had been expecting, but that it came through at all was a minor relief.

          “You could say that.” Jadoku’s tone was enough to convey that it wasn’t an emergency, but he still scrambled to continue before false conclusions could be made. “Either they dump _everything_ they’ve ever been up to in here or it’s… way bigger than we thought. Or than _I_ was led to believe, anyway.” The thought tied his stomach in knots.

          “Okay, so what’ve you started with? We can work from there.”

          Jadoku cringed, moving closer to the shelves and cases. “I haven’t, I don’t even know _where_ to start.”

          “Well, get _something_ runnin’ through while we figure it out. Can’t hurt.”

          “Figured we didn’t want to waste space,” Jadoku muttered to himself as he fished out a light, trying to excuse his mistake, if only to himself. Of course, he was heard.

          “That thing can hold a couple _petabytes_ of info, scans aren’t gonna come close.”

          Sighing and knowing he was right, Jadoku pulled something random off the end of a shelf, knowing how important it would be to put everything back _exactly_ as he’d found it. It had to be like they weren’t there. At least he didn’t have to worry about leaving behind stray fingerprints or some nonsense; the place was immaculate. He easily set up the scanner (a small, extendable strip of metal) beside a spare bit of wall, stacking the loose documents against the flat surface to be pulled through first, not paying attention to what they were. Now that things were moving again, he had to deal with the issue of figuring out what was actually there.

          Shining the light over what was left stapled to the file and the file itself, he noticed that the indicator tab had what had to be writing on it. Black smudges wouldn’t make sense in a place like this. That went double for the paper _inside_ the file. But he couldn’t make them out. Rubbing his eyes didn’t help, moving the light closer didn’t help, moving the _paper_ closer or further away did nothing but start a strained feeling behind his eyes. Shit. _Shit_.

          And like clockwork, the headache started.

          Biting down into his lip, Jadoku screwed his eyes shut against it, knowing it would fade in a bit. He didn’t have _time_ for this—

          “Update?”

          “…just gimme a sec—“ Jadoku knew his voice came across as pained, but any more of a delay in response would be worse. The worst of the pain was gone, and turning out the light took the edge away from where it felt like it sliced into his brain. “I’m sending you a visual.”

          Jadoku fumbled to pull out the phone, wincing at the backlight, regardless of how dimmed it was, to send a picture of the file. Himitsu could kill him for it later, right now it was more important to figure out it was _saying_. He nearly dropped the phone at the automatic flash, hissing at the sudden increase in pain and sending what he hoped was a legible picture.

          “Did you just—“

          “What does it say,” Jadoku interrupted, pausing at the silence before specifying. “On the tab.”

          There was a pause that Jadoku _knew_ meant he wouldn’t hear the end of this later. However, until things were smoothed out here, it had to be business first.

          “Eleven dash ten dash sixteen. Followed by a black dot.”

          Great. That could mean anything. Jadoku snapped the folder shut in frustration. He looked over at the scanner, which had finished its assigned job in seconds. How was he supposed to guess what any of that means? He couldn’t compare it to the other files to figure out the system, and he knew he wouldn’t get away with sending another unencrypted message for Himitsu to clean up after him.

          “It matches the deceased date in the file itself.”

          Jadoku stilled at that, staring into nothing. “What.”

          “November 10th, 2016. It’s a date. And if I had to guess, what we’re lookin’ for will be either the first or very last sections.”

          “Yeah, but…” Jadoku trailed off, shamefaced. The headache had receded to a dull throb, but it probably wouldn’t change anything. The headache had been absent the first time he’d tried to read the file, too.

          “I have a hunch, a workaround ya might call it. With the light, can you still see color?”

          Jadoku pulled the light out again and cringed before remembering he could just shine it through his hand instead of on anything in particular. Now greatly dimmed, the light shone through, the unmistakable orange-yellow-red that it should have been. “If I ever could’ve, yeah.”

          “Well, check the ends and look for a different colored dot. Or no dot, I dunno. Just hurry it up.”

          Feeling vaguely nauseous but still mentally able to follow direct orders, Jadoku checked the files closest to the door first. You’d want to be able to access more recent things more easily, right?

          “Be easier if you could just get at their electronic files,” Jadoku muttered, checking the right-most files. No dot. Maybe he was right…  
          “Yeah, lemme just pull the location of those out of my ass.”

          And maybe he should just lie about how he found them.

          Jadoku shook his head, ignoring the dull throb. It wasn’t the time to be petty. He thumbed through them until he found the most recent black dot and pulled the unmarked ones from the shelves. There were only a handful, and the folders themselves were thin. Too thin.

          “Think I found them, but we might have another issue.” Jadoku waited a half second before continuing, assuming he was being listened to. “There’s—“ He checked quickly. “Maybe a page in each.”

          “Well, scan what you can. We’ll see what we get.”

          Jadoku set to work, refilling the random folder he’d pulled with its own documents and unclipping the bottom of the scanner, moving it over the non-feedable folder. He didn’t trust that he wouldn’t break the staples holding the papers in while removing them. Manually scanning them took a little longer than just letting them run through, which gave him a bit of time to think.

          Jadoku timidly asked, “…do we care about the deceased?”

          The question was met with silence, to the point that Jadoku worried the connection had dropped. He continued his task, startling and swearing under his breath when he was answered. He’d have to restart the scan of that one.

          “Our priority’s the living. We’ll see where we are when that’s handled.”

          That sounded like a direct quote, rather than an opinion of his own, so Jadoku didn’t press. He supposed it made sense. There were hundreds of ways for these things to go wrong, and all of those had the potential to be completely unhelpful. The living could point in the right direction… hopefully.

          However, the negative answer made him far more reluctant to ask the next question that began to burn in the back of his mind. Given time and a calm mind, he could probably cobble together a decent argument for it, but seeing how he had neither at the moment, he only became more convinced he’d be discouraged from wasting time on it. Especially since he wouldn’t know for sure if he could find it.

          But still… he had to try.

          “Um.” Great start. “The earlier one, you said it was from 2016? November, even. So, if…”

          Jadoku sighed, sure that Himitsu had probably already guessed what he was about to ask and had already made up his mind to say no or come up with a very good reason not to waste time looking, the least of which being he wouldn’t know when he found it. If he found it.

          “…if they had something on my mom, it’d be around there… right?” Jadoku held his breath, barely remembering to continue scanning while he waited.

          After a long pause, the beginning of the answer wasn’t promising. “We already have—“

          “Taishou himself said what we have is minimal.” Jadoku wasn’t having it, barely able to keep his trembling to his core so his arm could remain steady in its work. “Look in the file I sent you and tell me it doesn’t contain more than we had, even _without_ the inserts.”

          “Yeah, but it’s _not_ her, and ya can’t exactly check…”

          Jadoku hinged his hope on Himitsu’s tone. He got the sense that he was wavering, and if he just pushed a bit it might be enough. Carefully stacking the now finished folders so they could be returned just as they were before, Jadoku knew he was extremely short on time. He’d already mostly made up his mind that he would go ahead and search. Permission would be nice, though, if only to be allowed to go on these jobs again... if he would still be able after this.

          “Her file would be more useful than the rest of this combined,” Jadoku said, hoping he was right about the actual reason behind this mission. If he wasn’t, he’d have to ask more personally, a thought that curdled in his stomach. He picked up the random folder on the floor, silently wishing he’d just somehow known to grab _hers_ in the first place.

          He’d placed it carefully back on the shelf, letting his hand linger, when he finally heard a sigh. Whether it was one of defeat or regret, he didn’t know yet.

          “It’s pushin’ it, but get as far as ya can. It should be somewhere to the right. I’ll call time when you absolutely need to get going.”

          “Thank you.” Jadoku was already moving, grabbing the next folder and scanning everything he could. He’d have no way of knowing what he got his hands on until he delivered the chip back to base, a thought that spiked his heart rate to something uncomfortable.

          “Just be sure to put everythin’ back as it was,” Himitsu warned.

          Humming in acknowledgement, Jadoku tucked the pieces back into place, scanning the main stapled page of the folder.

          “And Red,” You could almost _hear_ the smirk in his voice, which had Jadoku squinting uselessly in suspicion as he placed that folder back next to the previous one and reached for the next. “Ya said ‘Taishou’ _all_ by itself. Proud.”

          “Ghost, for fu—“ Jadoku broke off when something slipped out of the folder in his hands. Bending to pick it up, he felt the tell-tale waxy sheen of a photograph. Aware that the concentrated light from the scanner wouldn’t be enough for him to see color, he grit his teeth and pulled out the light again.

          Red. Red hair. It _had_ to be—

          Squashing down the sudden urge to just take off with the folder, Jadoku hurriedly scanned the contents of it. He fought back the nagging thought that there’s no way he of all people would actually find what he was looking for. Though he couldn’t make out the exact features in the photo, he just… knew. ‘Hoped’ might have been a better word.

          “Red, I hate to cut it short, but yer window’s closing.”

          He might have objected if he hadn’t just finished scanning the last piece in the folder, but as it was he was ready to go. Jadoku shut the folder and hesitated for a split second before slipping the photo into his vest pocket. They wouldn’t miss it, and if he messed up the scan…

          It was all the reasoning he needed. Dropping the file back where it belonged, Jadoku cast his gaze around to make sure he was leaving nothing behind. He was good.

          “Heading out,” Jadoku signed out, disconnecting the communication again once he had the verification he was heard.

          Refocusing, aware of the need for caution, Jadoku made his way back out through darkness and silence. He did his best not to dwell on the lecture he knew he’d be going back to.

* * *

 

That Night

Elsewhere

* * *

 

          Unloading the van took much longer than it should have. Anything that counted as personal items were buried behind the truly _important_ things. Now that they were here, however, speed wasn’t a pressing matter. That didn’t make it any easier to wait for the aides to take their sweet time carefully unloading every little thing while needing only two or three bags from the back to go and properly settle in.

          “You sure you remembered everything?” Nathan prompted, trying to break the silence.

          Mitsuko quietly nodded, shifting her wings behind her. There wasn’t much to forget in the first place, and Eliza would have been sure to catch it if something had slipped through the cracks. She was currently standing closer to the van itself, trying to bully the aides into moving faster. The other two couldn’t tell from where they were if she was having any success.

          Nathan sighed out of his nose, looking around the garage area for lack of being able to explore the rest of the building. This place would probably be no different from the last: sterile, hidden, secure. They’d find a new routine quickly, and slip into a new normal. There was that certainty, at least, and he knew what would happen if they failed to adjust.

          Glancing over just in time to see Eliza get in one of the aides’ faces, clearly having passed her meager patience’s limits, Nathan tensed. He got stressed just watching her, even knowing she wouldn’t get anything more than a slap on the wrist for it. If nothing else, she set a bad example for Mitsuko; that wasn’t how one survived.

          Eliza headed over to the other two in a huff. “The stuff isn’t _that_ fragile, they’re just lazy!”

          “It’s not so bad,” Nathan pointed out. “It’s just one van, it can’t take much longer.”

          “Pfft, if you say so.” Eliza leaned against one of the pillar supports, looking over at Mitsuko. “But hey, we’re all here, it’ll be like a party. Sort of. Probably not as much cake. Important bit is we’re all together again for the first time in, what, a couple years?”

          “Not all of us…” Mitsuko spoke up finally, playing with her fingernails.

          Nathan looked away, the knowledge that she didn’t mean Neil in that statement biting at the back of his throat. It was too much to hope that he would be kept here too.

          “Hey.” Eliza softened her voice, trying for comforting to draw Mitsuko out of her shell. “They’ll bring him home. That’s what all of this is _for_. They just have to make sure _we’re_ all safe before they send out the cavalry. Less places to watch, more eyes on the ground, you know?”

          Mitsuko nodded, but her face showed she wasn’t convinced. Eliza bit her lip in thought before brightening.

          “Oh! And you’ll get to meet the new girl. She’s closer to my age, but I think you guys will get along just fine.” Eliza beamed, encouraged when Mitsuko looked up in interest. “She’s kind of quiet too, so I’m sure you’ll work something out.”

          “She’s not that new,” Nathan mumbled, uncertain even though he knew it to be true. He wasn’t surprised when his comment got waved away.

          “I’m the newest of _us_ , and I’ve been around for more than twice as long as she has, _and_ Mitsuko hasn’t met her yet. She’s new enough.” Eliza frowned over at him. “Don’t be such a killjoy.”

          Nathan was saved from responding to that when one of the aides came over to inform them that while the van wasn’t empty yet, there was room enough to fish out their stuff. Eliza thanked him in a way that felt insincere to Nathan and hurried back over.

          When Mitsuko hung back, Nathan decided that Eliza was right in one way: he was dragging her spirits down. He reached out, gently grabbing her attention with a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, curious.

          “Rei will be back with us soon enough, you’ll see,” Nathan said, smiling reassuringly.

          It was all he had to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be back to Hiro's mischief next Saturday, but let me know what you think of this one! Reviews are motivation :)


	8. Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late, but with the encouragement and motivation from Saya and Furaill, here's the next chapter! Major shout out to Furaill for the amazing art gifts, and a thank you to Falco-r34 on tumblr for the Jadoku drawing (all art can be found on my blog amalgamoffaces). Another thank you to Saya for being there to talk things out with me and to the kind comments that keep me motivated. 
> 
> That said, here's the chapter!

Friday, January 24th, 2042

Late Evening

* * *

 

               Tadashi barely refrained from throwing his phone in frustration. Of all the places to not have phone reception, was Hiro seriously okay with the supposed safe house being one of them? _Especially_ if he was going to abandon him there and go traipsing off who-knew-where to do who-knew-what? Some genius, leaving him where he couldn’t contact anyone… except maybe through the necklace, but _still_. It was his aunt he wanted, no, _needed_ to get ahold of, not Hiro. This had gone too far.

               Takeo snuffled, pressing against his leg, unsettled by his owner’s clear agitation. Paying only half attention to the dog, Tadashi sulked. After Hiro had shut him in, he’d taken a second to register what had just happened before bolting up the stairs, futilely trying the door. He wasn’t about to be shut behind an unlocked door, so he had to at least try it. But sure enough, it was locked tight. He knew he had the firepower to destroy it, but what then?

               Even if he managed to escape the basement without bringing the place down around his ears, getting past the back door would be its own struggle. Who knew what it would set off or do? If it were just him, he might risk it, but Takeo would be put in danger. He had no idea if his tears would have any effect on animals, anyway… another thing he _should_ know, but _Hiro._

               Tadashi snarled in frustration, careful to remove his hands from the dog lest he burn him too. He still didn’t have perfect control, as much as he’d like to believe it, and have Hiro believe it. He could contain it if he had to. No. He could contain it if he were told to, and he was caring less and less about the “safeguards” Hiro put into place. He could monitor himself, just fine.

               He could do it _better_.

               Hiro was too afraid to do what would be good for anyone else, and trying to convince him or wait it out was pointless. He’d get nowhere with that tactic. Tadashi had tried to be sensitive to his brother’s fears, but a direct approach, just like years ago, wouldn’t work. And if Hiro knew… he’d be sure to fight against it.

               He’d have to figure out a way to do what needed to be done, all the while staying under Hiro’s radar. Should be fun.

* * *

 

               Hiro deliberated if having his hood up or down would catch more people’s attention for the first five minutes of his quick-paced walk to the Bay. He definitely wasn’t thinking in depth about what he just did. He hadn’t hurt anyone, and Tadashi had _more_ than enough supplies to take care of himself and the dog for months if he was frugal. He was better off this way.

               Maybe he should set up someone as a backup, just in case one day he had to disappear. Fred seemed like a good choice, with his money and connections… but he could also become a bit too excited and he wasn’t cautious enough. Wasabi was a better option on that front, but he and Gogo were getting serious, and throwing a wrench in that would only inspire resentment. No point in causing _more_ problems for himself. There was always Honey Lemon, he supposed, during the times she was actually in the country.

               He supposed he could throw in his chips with Baymax, seeing how he’d practically dragged him back from the edge of a pit when he’d lost Tadashi the first time. But Baymax could potentially be popped or shut down, and had no genuine personal accountability. He couldn’t rely on him as an actual being, no matter how good his software, so that was a definite no to being the backup. He’d be good in a last-minute emergency, but anything further and Hiro wanted a living, breathing person who was loyal to a fault. Why was that so hard to come by?

               Hiro sighed. None of the old crew were a perfect fit, and just leaving it up to his aunt would put both her and Tadashi in a location that was known to Kyouji and thus assumedly known to _them_. If that were the case, why hadn’t they already approached the café? Had he and Tadashi barely avoided them? Was his aunt okay?

               Hand reaching for his phone, Hiro barely stopped himself from calling home. If things were okay, she would want to talk to Tadashi. Not currently an option. If they _weren’t_ , calling could potentially cause more danger or give away his location. No, first he needed to solve the Mystery of the Bay.

               He smirked to himself, imagining Fred galloping alongside him and the others. They’d all have ideas, he was sure. But it wasn’t to be. As nostalgic as the Big Hero 6 gang was, it wasn’t realistic anymore. He’d have to do some things alone.

* * *

 

               Hiro stood at the edge of the water, staring out and trying to figure out what he’d been expecting. He began to pace along the shoreline, kicking a small rock around and racking his brain for the scraps of memory that frayed at the edges. He would have considered it a success if his thoughts mirrored the ebb and flow of the waves. Unfortunately, it was more of a mangled spider web, the clear, near invisible threads almost impossible to weave back together.

               Was there even anything here to find?

               Hiro sighed, letting his feet carry him forward, on and on along the beach, unsure of where he was heading. The entire arrival had been shockingly underwhelming, and while Hiro remained on guard, the idea of anyone ambushing him in any sizeable numbers felt ridiculous. He could see so far along the coast, emptying as he strayed farther from the main tourist locations, that people couldn’t get the drop on him if they _tried_.

               A few more minutes walking and not thinking about anything in particular, hoping that a clearer head would invite the missing pieces to appear, and Hiro arrived at a small cove. Yeah… this was the place he used to come to specifically, so far out of the way and secluded enough to provide some kind of privacy.

               And yet, still nothing…

               Hiro sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the sheetrock of the cliff face. He took what he hoped to be a calming breath, taking in the sea air and trying again to relax. If he didn’t find what he was looking for, it wouldn’t hurt to do some proper “breathing exercises.”

               It being so early in the year meant that the water was close to freezing, and the empty ocean in front of him was almost inviting, if only to clear his head. He could control his temperature, it’d be fine.

               Hiro was struck with a sudden sense of deja-vu, but instead of struggling to force it to show him what he wanted, he ignored it, letting his train of thought do what it would. If just trying to brute force the issue didn’t work, perhaps the opposite would.

               Scanning the water, Hiro got the sense that he should be looking for something, but couldn’t figure out what that might be. The phantom taste of sea salt assaulted his senses, startling him, though the tailing sense of fear and dread didn’t line up with something so mundane. Hiro lowered his gaze, staring at the sand for a moment before trailing his eyes to follow his own footprints back towards the main of the beach.

               “Holy sh—“ Hiro’s heart leapt to his throat, choking him as he backed away into a defensive stance. There was a guy standing there, looking pretty typical for a beachgoer, but it was _winter_ , and he’d been completely silent in his approach. It took Hiro a moment to catch his breath and register that there were no obvious weapons, and if he wanted to grab one from his bag, Hiro had more than enough time to retaliate. Besides, he looked terrified, too.

               The guy shifted on his feet, looking as ready to bolt as Hiro felt. “I-I didn’t see you there.”

               “No, it’s.” Hiro shook his head. “Sorry, I was lost in thought, I didn’t hear you come up.”

               “Oh. Um.” The guy readjusted his bag over his shoulder, eyes skittering away. “I’ll just—“

               Hiro started forward, grabbing his arm before he could properly retreat. Something… “Have we met before?”

               “No, I don’t think so,” he said hurriedly. “Maybe you’ve got me mixed up with someone else, black hair’s really common, and—“

               It was like scales falling from his eyes.

               “Rei.”

* * *

 

               Tadashi scoured the basement, checking every nook and cranny for any more hidden secrets. As he did so, he turned over the budding plan in his head. To have his aunt in on it would introduce a variable that could just as easily be biased for Hiro as himself. He could probably enlist his old friends, so long as he did it carefully, since Hiro had distanced himself so splendidly from them.

               Upon inspection of a suspiciously empty section of wall, Tadashi found a small groove and tugged, pulling a panel back. Well, that made a lot more sense.

               Inside was a landline, a standard, super old-fashioned _corded_ telephone. Tadashi pulled information from practically ancient history to answer the question of why. Corded landlines didn’t depend on the same energy that the overhead lights did in order to place the call, and would work in the event of a power outage. Of course. It would also remove the potential for unwanted tracking or communication from within the “bunker” and if he was right, would likely record all calls.

               Tadashi scowled, considering it for a moment. If he called Aunt Cass, Hiro would probably know, and that might jeopardize his planning. He didn’t want Hiro on guard from _him_.

               Instead, Tadashi tried to put a phone call through to Hiro. He waited out the rings to the voicemail but refrained from leaving a message. Hiro wouldn’t listen to it anyway, and he had to play it just right to be believable, move in the right direction, and still get his irritation across. He’d just have to wait.

* * *

 

               Rei gaped at Hiro.

               It was a good thing Hiro had a solid grip on Rei’s arm. With his brain going a mile a minute to “catch up,” Rei could have easily escaped again. As it was, Rei was stuck with mounting terror and an increased pressure on his arm that he knew would leave a mark. It was the least of his concerns, though. This had _never_ happened before.

               The pieces slotted into place for Hiro, wisps of memory tying together the gaps and strangely creating a _stronger_ memory than it should have been for something that happened years ago. The water, the first encounter, the _second_ , the fins and fear and taste of sea salt—oh.

               …did that count as a kiss?

               Finally, awareness sparked in Hiro’s eyes again and he became aware of the cramping in his hand and thus the red that changed to white when he relaxed his grip on Rei. He’d changed his hair color, which was frankly one of the smarter things he could have done, but it was unmistakably him. He also looked like he was one more scare from passing out. Hiro didn’t know how to deal with the sudden deluge of information and mentally scrambled to pull something coherent together.

               “I remember…” Hiro began.

               “That’s impossible,” Rei denied, fishing for some excuse, though he failed to deny who he was, agitation clear on his face.

               “And yet.” Hiro gestured with his free hand. A sudden thought hit him and he chased after it. Of _course_. “People are looking for you.”

               As soon as the words left his mouth Rei froze, before trying to pull away in earnest. While Hiro didn’t want to hurt him, he couldn’t let him get away, not when he was so close to some answers. Digging fingers into the muscle would make him stop struggling, but wouldn’t permanently hurt him. The less he moved, the less he would hurt.

               “You’re not supposed to _remember!_ ” Rei looked more terrified by that prospect than anything else and Hiro was hit with a twinge of pity. If Rei had been relying on that, on that… ability, to think that it could wear off would be nothing short of horrifying.

               “Okay, hey, calm down, it’s okay, I just want to know something.” Hiro was almost disturbed by how quickly Rei stilled at that. Sure, he was being sincere, but he believed him a little too quickly. “Why? Why are they after you, _who_ are they?”

               Hiro barely remembered to conceal the other information he knew in his questions. If Kyouji was one of the escapees, then surely Rei would know him. If it were something else going on, then he’d know if it were more likely to be Tadashi being described, or the small chance that it was someone else.

               Rei scowled, upset and hurt shining through his expression in response to the questions. “You know. You _remember_ what I am. What more do you want? They—“ Rei shook his head, his voice fracturing. “They don’t care, they just don’t want to start over.”

               “ _Who_ are they?”

               “I don’t know their _names!_ ” Rei began to shake. “There—there was the one that hated being there and always left early, there was the one who thought cold dead fish would be good for me, there was the one—“

               “Okay, okay, enough.” Hiro sighed. That wouldn’t help him. They were vague, oddly specific descriptions that weren’t actually useful. What else had he really expected?

               “…please let go of me,” Rei pleaded quietly, shifting uncomfortably in Hiro’s grip.

               Narrowing his eyes, Hiro considered him. “You going to run again?”

               “…you’d still remember.” Rei looked away, sliding his bag off his free shoulder to let it drop to the ground. Hiro barely resisted the urge to pick it up so he couldn’t just grab it and run off with it. Bad show and whatnot.

               “Don’t try… what you did last time.” Hiro stumbled on the wording, releasing Rei’s arm and trying not to feel guilty when Rei rubbed it, unconsciously angling the injured part of his body away from Hiro.

               Rei looked at the water and back at Hiro, like he was searching for something. “Wouldn’t work anyway. It’s too far back, I’d ruin you.”

               Hiro’s brow furrowed. “Ruin?”

               Rei nodded. “That’s what they called it… said I’d ruined her, even though they _told_ me…” Trailing off, Rei scuffed at the sand with the cheap looking flip flops he had on. “She wasn’t moving, but she was breathing just fine, just… staring. Didn’t see her again.”

               Hiro cringed. Yeah, he’d like to avoid that if possible. If Rei could directly affect memory and synapses? It was a good thing he seemed too… simple to have an agenda. The damage he could do… It’d be better to try and get back on his good side. The good thing was, it didn’t seem like he recognized potential manipulation. The danger was that if Hiro went this route and Rei got recaptured, what would stop him from sharing it? He supposed he’d just have to work from there, but he needed Rei and what Rei might know to draw out the intentions of the ones who started the manhunt in the first place. And for that, he needed Rei to trust him, more than just the natural trust he disturbingly gave away freely.

               “Rei… is there something you don’t want someone to remember?” Hiro tried to make it sound as non-accusing as possible.

               Rei shrugged, chewing on his lip before answering in that too honest way he did. “The people I was with… I couldn’t… they knew what I used to look like. And I’ve been good, but the… they would have known, with the description.”

               “But wouldn’t that have been too long ago to deal with?” Hiro put his hands in his pockets, the universal nonaggressive stance, or so he thought. Rei tensed more at it.

               “Not like you, and…” Rei’s gaze skittered to the side. “I panicked. I don’t think I hurt them, but I didn’t check.”

               “Is that where you got your stuff?” Hiro tried to turn the conversation to something less stressful, avoiding the obvious implications of Rei’s actions. “The bag’s new.”

               He nodded. “Some of it. People forget things all the time…” Rei didn’t even look ashamed, though Hiro was mildly certain he’d just admitted to low-level theft.

               Hiro knew this was where he’d have to play things right. “I don’t think they’re going to remember, Rei. Ever. You’ll be fine.”

               All that earned him was a confused look. “But you—“

               “I’m not exactly a good test case.” Hiro frowned, weighing his words. “Maybe I got around it, quite difficultly I might add, because I’m stubborn, smart, and… I’m like you.”

               _That_ got his attention.

               “Like me?” Rei pointed at the water. “Does that mean you can…”

               “Not… quite.” Hiro struggled to find another way to explain it. The thought came to him, with a small mental note that this could potentially get him real answers. “Where you were, were there other people that were different? That were treated like you?”

               “There was Nathan.” Rei picked at the edge of his shirt, thinking. “But I don’t think he could do anything, so they let him walk around and talk to me. There was a little girl, and a mean one who was always with her. They didn’t dress like the others, but…” Rei shrugged.

               Hiro was dying to press for more information, but with how freely Rei gave it out, he doubted there was any more to pull from him, and it would potentially destroy things. Silencing his buzzing phone from an unknown number, Hiro nodded.

               “I’m like that.” While Hiro was prepared for potentially having to prove it, Rei seemed to buy it right away. How had he managed around people for the last few years? “And I need to know more about where you came from, where it is, that sort of thing.”

               At this, Rei wavered. “I don’t know… I didn’t look back at it, I don’t know how to get back, I don’t _want_ to know—“

               “Hey, okay. I just want to help. The more I know, the better I can keep clear of them too. I don’t want to get taken in, either.”

               When Rei nodded, sympathizing on some level, Hiro counted it as a win. Now he needed to find a way to not lose track of him.

               “Where are you going to go?” Asking outright seemed to get the best response from Rei, odd as it was. It was almost refreshing.

               “I’ll be fine…” Rei looked unsure, gesturing out at the water. “I can just live there.”

               “And where do you think they’d _check?_ ” Hiro was becoming exasperated. Surely, he had better survival instincts than that, if nothing else.

               “They won’t find me.” Rei’s voice held a little firmer, an idea taking root. “If they do, I can just make them forget.”

               “And your stuff?” Hiro nudged the bag with his foot.

               “I can just hide it.” Rei didn’t look all that torn about it.

               Sighing, Hiro looked out at the surf. It’s not like he had somewhere he could just keep him that wouldn’t put Tadashi in danger now. If he took Rei to the safe house, he’d see Tadashi, if he took him to the café, he’d possibly relay that location back if he got caught. Dammit.

               “And if I wanted to find you?”

               “Why?” Rei’s confusion played plainly across his face.

               The simple question caught Hiro off guard. “I- uh. There’s not a lot of us… probably. Is it so weird to want to stick together?”

               Rei considered that for a bit, silent. “Better to not. Maybe… if they stop, I’ll come back?”

               Rei’s offer hung in the air. It wasn’t the answer that Hiro wanted, but maybe it would work for what he needed. He had some information, and this would take another player out of the game, simplify things. It was almost too bad; it seemed Rei was incapable of lying, a trait Hiro sorely wished for in those around him. It would make everything so much easier.

               “…Okay. Be safe.” It seemed safe enough to let Rei go. What did he really know? He didn’t know his name, which he _still_ hadn’t asked for. He didn’t know his ability, or that he even had a brother. If Rei got recaptured, it might be a bit sad, but not dangerous for _him_.

               Rei smiled, gathering up his things, accepting that he was free to go. He leaned in before backing up in realization. “Ah. Sorry. Habit. I guess you just… leave now?”

               Hiro nodded, reeling a bit from the sudden realization of what had almost just happened (again). Maybe Rei was a bit more dangerous than he thought, just unintentionally.

               Making his way away from the cove, Hiro determined to himself that it would probably be safe to go back there now to properly vent, once Rei made himself scarce. Now he just had to deal with the trouble he’d left behind him. Tadashi _had_ to forgive him… Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the goal will be again to get a chapter up by Saturday, but at the absolute latest it will be posted by early Monday morning. Reviews are always appreciated and fuel motivation.

**Author's Note:**

> Update schedule is to aim for a chapter every Saturday. (Summer posts will aim for twice a week, but don't count too much on it. Chapter 8 will be this week's post)


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